UC-MRtF 


273    663 


THE    ROBERT    E    COWAN   COLLECTION 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

HY 

C.   P.  HUNTINGTON 


!  Recession  No 


:ss  No 


?!35" 


LEGAL  RECREATIONS. 


VOL.     III 


Judidikl       u 


JUDICIAL 


PUZZLES. 


Gathered  from  the  State  Trials. 


JOHN   PAGET,   ESQ., 

Barrister-at-law,  Recorder  of  Thames  Police  Court. 


SAN  FRANCISCO : 

WHITNEY   &   Co. 
1876. 


COPYRIGHT    187G, 

BY 
STJMNER  WHITNEY  &  CO. 


PREFACE. 


These  narratives  and  reviews  of  five  most  in 
teresting  State  trials  were  published  in  u  Black- 
wood's  Magazine "  in  1859-60,  and  subsequently 
reprinted,  among  other  contributions  of  the  same 
author,  in  a  volume  entitled  "  Paradoxes  and 
Puzzles." 

The  publishers  present  this  American  edition 
with  the  belief  that  it  will  prove  attractive  to 
general  readers  as  well  as  the  legal  profession  and 
add  a  pleasant  variety  to  the  series  of  "LEGAL 
RECREATIONS." 

January,  1876. 


[5] 


CONTENTS. 


I.     ELIZABETH 

Her  story 10-20 

Henry  Fielding 20 

Sir  Crispe  G-ascoyne 27 

Conviction  of  Squires  and  Wells 27 

Conviction  of  Canning 35 

II.     THE  CAMPDEX  WONDER. 
TRIAL  OF  THE  PEHIIYS  FOR  MURDER  OF  HARRISON. 

Chipping1  Campden 37 

Justice  Shallow  and  Will  Squele 38 

Disappearance  of  Harrison 39 

Confession  of  John  Perry 41 

Trial  and  execution  of  Joan,  Richard,  and  John  Terry.  43 

Return  of  Harrison 44 

His  narrative 44 

Confessions 51 

Mania  for  self-accusation - 51 

Cowper,  the  poet 51 

Case  at  Calais 52 

Confession  of  the  witches 52 

Isabel  Gowdie,  Janet  Breadheid 53 

Modern  cases CO 

Samuel  Wall GO 

Mutiny  of  the  llermione 65 

III.     THE  ANNESLEY  CASE. 

Marriage  of  Lord  Altham 69 

Appearance  of  the  claimant 70 


CONTENTS. 

His  trial  fur  murder,  and  acquittal 71 

Had  Lady  Altham  ever  had  a  child  ? 73 

The  household  at  Dumnaine 73 

Contradictory  evidence 74—81 

Evidence  of  Palliser,  Joan  Laffan,  and  Mary  Heath  .  .  78 

Kidnapping  of  James  Annesley 84 

Contradictory  verdicts 85, 8G 

IV.     ELIZA  PENNING. 

Her  funeral 87 

Her  trial 89-96 

Reasons  for  believing  her  guilty  1)7 

Rule  of  law  preventing  accused  from  giving  evidence.  100 

Inconsistency  of  the  rule 101 

Evils  of  the  rule 101 

Hatche's  case  102 

Plummer's  case 103 

Case  of  Squires 104 

Canning's  case 104 

Suggested  alteration  of  the  rule 104 

The  Road  Murder ....  106 

V.     SPENCER  COWPER'S  CASE. 

Sarah  Stout 109 

Character  of  Spencer  Cowper 110 

His  trial 112 

"Walker's  evidence 112 

Cowper's  defense  115 

Finding  of  the  body  of  Sarah  Stout  119 

Lord  Macaulay's  account  of  the  trial 123 

His  misrepresentations  of  facts  and  distortion  of  evi 
dence  129 

The  Quakers 135 

William  Tallack 137 

Lord  Maeaulay's  unscrupulous  treatment  of    facts  a 

dangerous  weapon 140 

Might  be  easily  turned  against  himself  140 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 


JUDICIAL  PUZZLES. 


I. 

ELIZABETH   CANNING. 

Every  one  has  heard  of  the  case  of  Elizabeth  Can 
ning.  It  is  constantly  quoted,  constantly  relied  up 
on  as  an  authority  for  propositions  the  most  diverse 
and  even  contradictory.  There  is  a  general  vague 
idea  that  an  ingenious  fraud  was  by  some  marvel 
ous  agency  detected,  that  innocence  was  rescued 
from  imminent  peril,  and  truth  vindicated ;  but  by 
what  means  or  under  what  circumstances  this  took 
place,  who  was  innocent  and  who  was  guilty,  very 
few  of  those  in  whose  mouths  the  name  of  the  case 
is  most  familiar  would  be  able  to  say.  To  any  one 
who  has  taken  the  pains  to  make  himself  master  of 
the  case,  this  hazy  condition  of  mind  will  be  any 
thing  but  surprising.  It  is,  in  truth,  perhaps,  the 
most  complete  and  most  inexplicable  Judicial  Puz 
zle  on  record ;  and  after  reading  four  hundred  and 
twenty-nine  pages  of  close  bad  print,  in  the  19th 
volume  of  the  "  State  Trials,"  a  candid  man  will 
find  himself  equally  amazed  at  the  zeal,  the  indus 
try,  the  ingenuity  with  which  it  was  sought  to  dis 
cover  where  the  truth  really  lay ;  and  the  way  in 
which,  notwithstanding  the  fullest  and  most  patient 
[9J 


10  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

inquiry,   that  truth,   though    apparently  close  -at 
hand,  still  eluded  its  pursuers. 

Elizabeth  Canning  was  a  servant  girl  in  the  fam 
ily  of  a  man  of  the  name  of  Edward  Lyon,  a  car 
penter  in  Aldermanbury.  At  the  time  in  question 
(1753)  she  was  about  eighteen  years  of  age.  Her 
father  had,  during  his  lifetime,  been  also  in  the 
employment  of  Mr.  Lyon ;  her  mother  resided  in 
the  immediate  neighborhood.  She  had  previously 
been  in  the  service  of  another  neighbor  of  the  name 
of  Wintlebury  for  nearly  two  years :  there  was 
every  opportunity  and  every  motive  for  the  strict 
est  examination  of  her  character,  and  it  bore 
the  investigation  without  the  slightest  stain  being 
detected.  On  the  1st  of  January,  1753,  her  mistress 
gave  Elizabeth  Canning  permission  to  spend  the 
day  with  an  uncle  of  the  name  of  Collcy,  who  lived 
at  Saltpetre  Bank,  now  known  as  Dock  Street,  near 
Well-Close  Square,  and  immediately  behind  the 
London  Dock.  In  the  evening  Colley  and  his  wife 
accomptmied  her  on  her  way  back  to  her  master's 
in  Aldermanbury  as  far  as  Houndsditch,  where 
they  parted  from  her  soon  after  nine  o'clock.  At 
this  point  she  was  lost  sight  of.  She  did  not  return 
to  her  master's  nor  to  her  mother.  The  surprise, 
alarm,  and  anxiety  of  her  friends  were  extreme. 
Advertisements  were  repeatedly  inserted  in  the 
papers,  offering  rewards  for  her  discovery.  It  was 
said  that  a  shriek  had  been  heard,  as  of  some  female 
in  distress,  in  a  hackney-coach  in  Bishopsgate  Street, 
and  attempts  were  made  to  find  the  driver,  but  in 
vain.  No  trace  of  the  lost  girl  could  be  discovered. 


ELIZABETH    CAXXIXG.  11 

On  the  29th  of  January,  about  a  quarter  after 
ten  o'clock  in  the  evening,  just  as  they  were  pre 
paring  to  fasten  up  the  house,  and  to  go  to  bed,  the 
latch  of  her  mother's  door  was  lifted,  and  a  figure 
entered,  pale,  tottering,  emaciated,  livid,  bent  al 
most  double,  with  no  clothes  but  her  shift,  a 
wretched  petticoat,  and  a  filthy  bed-gown,  a  rag 
tied  over  her  head,  bloody  from  a  wound  on  her 
ear.  Such  was  the  condition  in  which  Elizabeth 
Canning  returned  after  an  absence  of  four  weeks. 
Where  had  she  been  ?  what  had  happened  to  her 
during  those  weeks  ? 

The  first  question  which  presents  itself  is,  What 
was  the  account  given  by  the  girl  herself  ?  Then 
follows  the  inquiry  how  far  that  account  is  supported, 
or  in  what  respects  is  it  contradicted,  by  evidence 
subsequently  produced?  As  we  proceed,  we  shall 
find  ourselves  involved  in  a  most  perplexing  and 
difficult  investigation,  but  for  the  present  we  may 
confine  our  attention  to  Canning's  own  account.  It 
was  given  in  the  presence  of  many  witnesses,  with 
out  apparent  preparation  or  concert  with  any  one — 
indeed  there  was  no  time  for  this,  as,  immediately 
upon  he'r  arrival,  the  neighbors  flocked  in  to  ex 
press  their  sympathy  and  satisfy  their  curiosity. 
Few  minutes  had  elapsed  before  the  house  was  full. 

Her  former  master,  Mr.  Wintlebury,  (who  seems 
to  have  had  a  very  kindly  feeling  towards  her,  and 
who  gave  her  the  highest  character)  was  among 
them;  another  neighbor,  of  the  name  of  Robert 
Scarratt,  was  also  there,  and  many  more.  The 
statement  made  by  Canning  in  reply  to  their  in- 


12  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

quiries  was,  that  as  she  passed  through  Moorfields, 
after  parting  from  her  uncle  and  aunt,  she  was  at 
tacked  by  two  men,  who  robbed  her  of  what  money 
she  had  about  her,  stripped  off  her  gown,  and  struck 
her  a  blow  which  rendered  her  insensible.  That 
when  she  came  to  herself,  she  found  that  she  was 
being  dragged  along  a  road ;  that  about  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning  they  arrived  at  a  house,  into  which 
she  was  carried  by  these  two  men;  "when  she 
came  in,  there  was  an  elderly  woman  and  two 
young  ones ;  the  old  woman  took  hold  of  her  arm 
and  asked  if  she  would  go  their  way?  and  she  said 
"No.  Then  she  went  and  took  a  knife  out  of  a 
drawer,  and  cut  the  lacing  of  her  stays  and  took 
them  off,  and  gave  her  a  great  slap  in  the  face,  and 
told  her  she  should  suffer  in  the  flesh,  and  opened  a 
door,  and  shoved  her  up  a  pair  of  stairs  into  a  room."* 
This  room  she  described  as  a  "longish,  darkish 
room,"f  in  which  there  was  some  hay,$  a  pitcher 
of  water,  some  pieces  of  bread — about  as  much 
as  would  be  equal  in  quantity  to  a  quartern  loaf ; 
that  there  was  a  fireplace  and  a  grate,  out  of 
which  she  took  the  bedgown  she  had  on,  and  the 
rag  which  was  tied  over  her  head ;  that  there  was  a 
cask,  a  saddle,  a  pewter  basin,  and  a  few  other 
articles,  which  she  specified,  in  the  room ;  that  the 
house  was  ten  or  eleven  miles  from  London  on  the 
Hertfordshire  road ;  that  there  was  a  staircase  near 
the  room,  up  and  down  which  she  heard  persons  pass* 

*  Evidence  of  Mary  Myers,  19  State  Trials,  504. 
t  Scarratt,  496-501. 
J  Myers,  505. 


OF  THR 

TJNIVERSITY 


ELIZABETH    C^^^^lfOFH^^         13 

ing  during  the  night ;  and  that  she  had  heard  "  the 
name  of  Mother  Wills  or  Mother  Wells  mention 
ed."  Whether  this  last  statement  as  to  the  name 
of  Wells  was  made  in  reply  to  a  suggestion  or  not, 
is,  however,  doubtful — Scarratt  stating  that  it  was 
in  reply  to  an  expression  used  by  him  when  he 
hearcl  she  had  been  on  the  Hertfordshire  road,  that 
he  would  "  lay  a  guinea  to  a  farthing  she  had  been 
at  Mother  Wells's  "  ;*  whilst  Mary  Myers  states  that 
Canning  had  mentioned  the  name  of  Wells  to  her 
before  Scarratt  spoke,  and  that  if  Scarratt  had 
spoken  previously  she  must  have  heard  him.|  She 
certainly  said  she  had  been  confined  in  a  room  on 
the  Hertfordshire  road  before  any  suggestion  had 
been  made  to  her  ;$  and  when  asked  "  how  she  knew 
that?"  accounted  for  it  by  saying  that  she  had 
seen,  through  the  crevices  of  the  boards  which  were 
nailed  over  the  window,  a  coachman,  to  whom  she 
had  been  accustomed  to  carry  parcels  for  her 
master  addressed  to  Hertford,  and  by  whose  coach 
her  mistress  had  been  in  the  habit  of  traveling, 
drive  past  the  house.  She  said,  that  after  remain 
ing  confined  in  this  room,  with  no  other  food  than 
the  bread  and  water,  and  a  minced  pie  which  she 
happened  to  have  in  her  pocket,  from  the  1st  of 
January  till  the  29th,  she  escaped  out  at  the  win 
dow  by  pulling  some  of  the  boards  down,  and  in 
doing  so  tore  her  ear.§  She  described  the  woman 
who  robbed  her  of  her  stays  as  a  "  tall,  black,  swar- 

*  Scarratt,  495.  J  Woodward,  5:>7  ;  Wintlebury,  510. 

t  Myers,  505;  Wintlebury ,-510.        §  Myers,  505. 

PUZZLES— 2. 


14  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

thy  woman."*  Scarratt,  whose  suspicions  had,  as 
we  have  seen,  pointed  at  Wells,  immediately  observ 
ed  that  "  that  description  did  not  answer  to  her."t 
She  then  described  very  particularly  the  course  she 
took  through  the  fields,  past  a  tan-yard  and  over  a 
little  bridge  into  the  high-road,  after  making  her 
escape  through  the  window.  This  description  was, 
however,  given  in  reply  to  leading  questions  put  by 
Scarratt ;  but  it  is  worthy  of  remark  that  she  said 
she  met  a  man,  and  asked  her  road  to  London t — a 
fact  which,  as  we  shall  presently  see,  was  sub 
sequently  confirmed  by  the  evidence  of  a  witness  of 
the  name  of  Bennett. § 

Such  in  substance  was  the  account  given  by  Eliza 
beth  Canning  on  the  evening  of  the  29th  of  January. 
Is  it  a  matter  of  surprise  that  such  a  story,  told  by  a 
young  girl  at  the  moment  of  her  restoration  to  her 
family,  spoken  in  the  starts  and  snatches  of  extreme 
debility  and  exhaustion,  attested  by  her  emaciated 
form,  her  pallid  cheek,  her  numb  and  withered  limbs, 
should  find  deep  sympathy  and  ready  relief  from 
those  who  had  known  her  from  childhood,  who  had 
listened  day  by  day,  for  four  weeks,  to  the  lamenta 
tions  of  her  mother,  and  who  had  felt,  as  every  day 
passed,  their  hopes  grow  fainter,  and  their  fears  as 
sume  more  and  more  the  aspect  of  certainty  ?  And, 
after  all,  is  there  such  improbability  on  the  face  of 
the  story  as  should  induce  us  even  now  to  reject  it 
as  incredible  ?  The  robbery  in  Moorfields  was  the 

*  Woodward,  508 ;  Scarratt,  49C. 
t  Scarratt,  496. 
t  Scarratt,  496. 
§  Bennett,  627. 


ELIZABETH    CAXXIXG.  15 

most  probable  of  occurrences.  It  is  impossible  to  take 
up  a  newspaper  of  that  period  without  finding  simi 
lar  outrages  recorded.  It  is  true  that  it  is  difficult 
to  assign  any  motive  that  could  induce  the  robbers 
to  encumber  themselves  with  the  strongest  proof 
of  their  crime,  by  carrying  her  off ;  but  it  is  equally 
difficult  to  suggest  any  cause  other  than  that  which 
she  herself  assigned  for  the  condition  to  which  she 
was  reduced.  An  attempt  was  made  during  the 
proceedings  to  show  a  connection  to  have  existed 
between  Elizabeth  Canning  and  the  witness  Scar- 
ratt,  but  the  attempt  utterly  failed.  Scarratt  swore 
(and  he  would  have  been  easily  contradicted  had  he 
sworn  falsely)  that  he  had  no  acquaintance  with  the 
girl ;  and  although  he  resided  in  the  neighborhood, 
he  believed  he  had  never  even  seen  her  until  the 
night  of  her  return  to  her  mother's  house.  It  was 
upon  her  saying  that  she  had  been  on  the  Hertford 
shire  road  that  his  suspicions  pointed  to  Wells'  house, 
which  he  had  before  known  as  one  of  evil  repute, 
as  the  place  of  her  confinement ;  but  his  good  faith  is 
shown  by  his  admission  that  he  mentioned  the  name 
of  Wells  to  her  first,  and  the  description  which  Can 
ning  gave  of  the  room  could  not  have  been  sug 
gested  by  his  questions,  as  he  had  never  been  in  it.* 
The  description  which  she  gave  of  the  woman  who 
cut  off  her  stays  is  also  conclusive  that  she  was  not 
prompted  by  Scarratt,  who,  when  he  heard  it,  im 
mediately  said  that  it  did  not  answer  to  Wells,  who 
was  the  person  he  suspected. 

*  Scarratt,  498. 


16  JUDICIAL*  PUZZLES. 

On  the  day  but  one  after,  the  31st  of  January, 
Canning  repeated  her  story  to  Alderman  Chitty, 
who  was  the  sitting  alderman  at  the  time,  and  who 
thereupon  issued  his  warrant  for  the  apprehension 
of  Mother  Wells. 

On  the  1st  of  February,  Canning,  accompanied  by 
her  mother  and  her  friends,  went  with  the  officer 
who  had  charge  of  the  warrant  to  Enfield  Wash. 

The  house  of  Mother  Wells  still  stands  a  little 
beyond  the  tenth  milestone  on  the  Hertford  road. 
It  is  on  the  right  hand,  at  the  corner  of  the  lane 
leading  down  to  the  Ordnance  Factory  Station  of 
the  Eastern  Counties  Railway.  The  shell  has  been 
but  little  altered,  and  the  rooms  still  remain  nearly 
the  same  as  they  appear  on  the  plan  which  was  pub 
lished  in  the  "Gentleman's  Magazine"  for  1753. 
If  the  truth  of  Elizabeth  Canning's  story  was  to  be 
proved  in  the  same  way  as  Jack  Cade's  royal  de 
scent,  "  the  bricks  are  alive  to  this  day  to  testify  it." 
The  window  through  which  she  escaped  still  com 
mands  a  view  of  the  road  to  Hertford.  Chingford 
Hill  might  still,  but  for  the  cottages  which  have 
sprung  up  in  consequence  of  the  railway  station,  be 
seen,  as  she  described,  from  the  other  window. 
The  pantiles  of  the  roof  still  remain  unpointed,  and 
everything  bears  testimony  to  the  truth  of  her  de 
scription.  But  instead  of  Mother  Wells  and  her 
gang  of  tramps  and  gipsies,  we  found,  on  our  visit 
to  Enfield  Wash,  a  comely  matron  presiding  at  a 
table  surrounded  by  bonny  lasses  and  chubby  boys 
from  sixteen  downwards,  whose  laughing  blue 
eyes  and  clear,  rosy  complexions  formed  as  strong 


ELIZABETH    CAXNTXG.  17 

and  agreeable  a  contrast  to  poor  Elizabeth  Can 
ning  as  the  bright  furniture,  cheerful  hearth,  and 
blazing  fire  did  to  the  desolation,  filth,  and  dis 
comfort  which  formerly  prevailed  in  that  now  com 
fortable  dwelling.  Assuredly  fate  seems  to  have 
mingled  a  very  fair  allowance  of  sugar  and  nutmeg 
in  the  cup  of  Mr.  Xegus — for  such  is  the  jolly  name 
of  the  present  occupant  of  the  house,  who  seems  to 
be,  and  we  trust  is,  driving  a  prosperous  trade  as  a 
baker. 

Canning  was  earned  from  room  to  room,  and  at 
last  into  the  loft.  She  immediately  said,  "  This  is 
the  room  I  was  in,  but  there  is  more  hay  in  it  than 
there  was  when  I  was  here ;  "*  and  she  pushed  some 
of  the  hay  aside  with  her  foot,  and  showed  two 
holes  in  the  floor  which  she  had  observed.  She 
pointed  out  the  cask,  the  saddle,  the  pitcher,  the 
tobacco-mould,  and  the  pewter  basin, t  which  she 
had  mentioned  on  her  arrival  at  her  mother's ;  and 
she  correctly  described  the  view  which  might  be 
seen  from  each  of  the  windows.  On  examination, 
the  boards  which  closed  up  the  window  at  which 
she  said  she  had  escaped,  were  found  to  have  been 
only  fastened  there  very  recently,  as  "  the  wood  was 
fresh  split  with  driving  a  great  nail  through  it,  and 
the  crack  seemed  as  fresh  as  could  be."J 

Could  there  be  stronger  confirmation  of  the  truth 
of  her  story  ?  By  what  means  could  Canning  have 
acquired  this  accurate  knowledge?  It  has  been 
said  that  the  room  did  not  agree  with  Canning's 

*  Myers,  606.  J  Adamson,  517. 

t  Scarratt,  497  :  Myers,  506. 


18  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

description.  A  careful  examination  of  the  evidence 
shows,  however,  that  it  coincided  with  that  descrip 
tion  in  the  most  remarkable  manner.  There  were, 
no  doubt,  some  discrepancies — for  instance,  Canning 
had  mentioned  a  grate,  and  there  proved  to  be 
none.  She  had  spoken  of  a  saddle,  and  three  were 
found.  She  had  spoken  of  being  locJced  in,  whilst 
in  fact  the  door  was  fastened  only  with  a  button  or 
bolt.  There  were  some  other  trifling  inaccuracies. 
Suspicion  had  pointed  at  Wells  as  the  person 
who  had  committed  the  outrage;  but  when  Can 
ning  was  brought  into  the  room  in  which  all  the 
inmates  of  the  house  were  collected,  contradicting 
the  expectation  of  her  friends,  she  passed  Wells  by 
unnoticed,  and,  pointing  to  an  old  gipsy  woman  of 
the  name  of  Mary  Squires,  who  was  sitting  by  the 
fire,  said,  "  That  old  woman  in  the  corner  was  the 
woman  that  robbed  me."  The  gipsy  rose  from  her 
seat,  drew  aside  the  cloak  in  which  she  was  partially 
muffled,  and  displayed  a  face  such  as,  once  seen, 
could  not  easily  be  forgotten.  She  was,  as  Canning 
had  described  her,  "  tall,  dark,  and  swarthy."  She 
looked  steadfastly  at  Canning,  and  exclaimed,  "  Me 
rob  you !  I  never  saw  you  in  my  life  before.  For 
God  Almighty's  sake  do  not  swear  my  life  away ! 
Pray,  madam,  look  at  this  face ;  if  you  have  once 
seen  it  before,  you  must  have  remembered  it :  for 
God  Almighty,  I  think,  never  made  such  another. 
Pray,  madam,  when  do  you  say  I  robbed  you?" 
Canning  said  it  was  on  the  first  day  of  the  new 
year.  "  Lord  bless  me !  "  exclaimed  the  gipsy,  "  I 
was  a  hundred  and  twenty  miles  from  this  place 


ELIZABETH    CAXXIXG.  19 

then  !  "  George  Squires,  the  gipsy's  son,  immedi 
ately  added,  "  We  were  in  Dorsetshire  at  that  time, 
at  a  place  called  Abbotsbury  ;  we  went  there  to 
keep  our  Christmas."  Here  we  arrive  at  the  begin 
ning  of  what  makes  this  case  so  remarkable.  We 
have  insisted  on  the  importance  of  the  first  account 
given  by  Canning.  The  gipsy  and  her  son  are  en 
titled  to  a  like  consideration.  This  prompt  and 
ready  alibi,  asserted  without  hesitation,  specifying 
time  and  place  with  undoubting  accuracy,  and  thus 
affording  means  for  testing  its  truth,  gave  occasion 
to  the  very  remarkable  conflict  of  testimony  which 
followed,  and  which  entitles  this  case  to  its  rank  as 
one  of  the  most  interesting  on  record.  An  alibi 
is,  as  has  often  been  remarked,  the  best  or  the 
worst  of  defenses.  It  often  depends  upon  a  few 
miles  or  even  a  few  yards  of  distance,  or  upon  a 
clock  being  a  few  minutes  fast  or  slow.  No  such 
nicety  arises  in  this  case.  The  robbery  was  commit 
ted  early  on  the  morning  of  the  1st  of  January  —  Xew 
Year's  Day  —  a  date  easily  fixed.  Abbotsbury  is  a 
hundred  and  fifty  miles,  as  the  crow  flies,  from 
Enfield:  the  gipsy  understated  the  distance.  It 
also  often  involves  difficult  questions  of  personal 
identity.  Xone  such  arise  here.  The  gipsy  spoke 
truly  when  she  said  that  "God  Almighty  never 
made  such  another  face  as  hers."  She  was  not 
only  singularly  hideous,  but  deeply  marked  with 
the  scars  of  disease  ;  and  the  witnesses  who  were 
examined  had  many  of  them  been  long  familiar 
with  her  appearance.  These  circumstances  seem 
to  exclude  the  possibility  of  mistake  on  the  part  of 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 


20  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

the  witnesses.  Must  we  then  resort  to  the  conclu 
sion  that  one  side  or  the  other  is  guilty  of  perjury? 
This  hypothesis,  though  easy  and  simple  enough  at 
first  sight,  will  be  found  on  investigation  to  be 
attended  with  nearly  as  many  difficulties  as  any 
other.  We  must,  however,  go  back  to  Elizabeth 
Canning,  whom  we  left  in  Mother  Wells'  kitchen, 
confronted  by  the  gipsy  and  her  son.  In  the  house, 
besides  the  gipsy  and  her  family,  was  a  man  of  the 
singular  name  of  Fortune  Natus  and  his  wife,  and 
a  young  woman  named  Virtue  Hall.  The  whole 
party  were  forthwith  taken  to  the  residence  of  the 
nearest  magistrate,  Mr.  Teshmaker,  of  Ford's  Grove, 
by  whom  all  were  discharged  with  the  exception  of 
the  gipsy  and  Mother  Wells,  who  were  committed 
to  prison  to  take  their  trial,  the  one  for  stealing 
Canning's  stays,  and  the  other  as  accessory  to  the 
felony. 

A  new  actor  now  comes  on  the  stage,  and  a 
curious  insight  is  afforded  into  the  mode  in  which 
inquiries  of  this  nature  were  conducted  in  the 
metropolis  a  hundred  years  ago. 

Henry  Fielding,  the  celebrated  novelist,  was  then 
a  police  magistrate  of  London. 

To  tell  a  tale  told  by  Fielding  in  any  words  but 
his  own  would  indeed  be  presumption. 

"  Upon  the  6th  of  February,"  he  says,*  "  as  I  was 
sitting  in  my  room,  Counselor  Maden  being  then 
with  me,  my  clerk  delivered  me  a  case,  which  was 
thus,  as  I  remember,  indorsed  at  the  top :  '  The  case 

*  A  Clear  State  of  the  Case  of  Elizabeth  Canning,  by  Henry  Fielding, 
Esq.,  1753,  p.  30. 


ELIZABETH   CANNING.  21 

of  Elizabeth  Canning,  for  Mr.  Fielding's  opinion ' ; 
and  at  the  bottom,  '  Salt,  Solr.'  Upon  the  receipt 
of  this  case,  with  my  fee,  I  bid  my  clerk  give  my 
service  to  Mr.  Salt,  and  tell  him  that  I  would  take 
the  case  with  me  into  the  country,  whither  I  intend 
ed  to  go  the  next  day,  and  desired  he  would  call 
for  it  on  the  Friday  morning  afterwards;  after 
which,  without  looking  into  it,  I  delivered  it  to  my 
wife,  who  was  then  drinking  tea  with  us,  and  who 
laid  it  by.  The  reader  will  pardon  my  being  so 
particular  in  these  circumstances,  as  they  seem,  how 
ever  trifling  they  may  be  in  themselves,  to  show  the 
true  nature  of  this  whole  transaction,  which  hath 
been  so  basely  misrepresented,  and  as  they  will  all 
be  attested  by  a  gentleman  of  fashion,  and  of  as 
much  honor  as  any  in  the  nation.  My  clerk  pres 
ently  returned  up-stairs,  and  brought  Mr.  Salt  with 
him,  who,  when  he  came  into  the  room,  told  me 
that  he  believed  the  question  would  be  of  little  diffi 
culty,  and  begged  me  earnestly  to  read  it  over  then, 
and  give  him  my  opinion,  as  it  was  a  matter  of  some 
haste,  being  of  a  criminal  nature,  and  he  feared  the 
parties  would  make  their  escape.  Upon  this,  I  de 
sired  him  to  sit  down ;  and  when  the  tea  was  ended, 
I  ordered  my  wife  to  fetch  me  back  the  case,  which 
I  then  read  over,  and  found  it  to  contain  a  very  full 
and  clear  state  of  the  whole  affair  relating  to  the 
usage  of  this  girl,  with  a  query  what  methods  might 
be  proper  to  take  to  bring  the  offenders  to  justice ; 
which  query  I  answered  in  the  best  manner  I  was 
able.  Mr.  Salt  then  desired  that  Elizabeth  Canning 
might  swear  to  her  information  before  me;  and 


22  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

added  that  it  was  the  very  particular  desire  of 
several  gentlemen  of  that  end  of  the  town,  that 
Virtue  Hall  might  be  examined  by  me  relating  to 
her  knowledge  of  this  affair.  This  business  I  at  first 
declined,  partly  as  it  was  a  transaction  which  had 
happened  at  a  distant  part  of  the  country,  as  it  had 
been  examined  already  by  a  gentleman  with  whom 
I  have  the  pleasure  of  some  acquaintance,  and  of 
whose  worth  and  integrity  I  have,  with  all,  I  be 
lieve,  who  know  him,  a  very  high  opinion  ;  but  prin 
cipally,  indeed,  for  that  I  had  been  almost  fatigued 
to  death  with  several  tedious  examinations  at  that 
time,  and  had  intended  to  refresh  myself  with  a 
day  or  two's  interval  in  the  country,  where  I  had 
not  been,  unless  on  a  Sunday,  for  a  long  time.  I 
yielded,  however,  at  last,  to  the  importunities  of  Mr. 
Salt ;  and  my  only  motives  for  so  doing  were,  be 
sides  those  importunities,  some  curiosity,  occasioned 
by  the  extraordinary  nature  of  the  case,  and  a  great 
compassion  for  the  dreadful  condition  of  the  girl, 
as  it  was  represented  to  me  by  Mr.  Salt. 

"  The  next  day  Elizabeth  Canning  was  brought  in 
a  chair  to  my  house,  and  being  led  up-stairs  between 
two,  the  following  information,  which  I  had  never 
before  seen,  was  read  over  to  her,  when  she  swore 
to  the  truth,  and  set  her  mark  to  it." 

Here  follows  Canning's  information,  somewhat 
expanded  from  the  one  made  before  Alderman  Chit- 
ty,  but  in  the  main  the  same. 

"  Upon  this  information,"  continues  Fielding,  "  I 
issued  a  warrant  against  all  who  should  be  found  res 
ident  in  the  house  of  the  said  Wells,  as  idle  and  dis- 


ELIZABETH    CAXXIXG.  23 

orderly  persons,  and  persons  of  evil  name,  that  they 
might  appear  before  me,  and  give  security  for  their 
good  behavior ;  upon  which  warrant,  Virtue  Hall 
and  one  Judith  Nntus  were  seized  and  brought  be 
fore  me,  both  being  found  at  Mother  Wells'.  They 
were  in  my  house  above  an  hour  or  more  before  I 
was  at  leisure  to  see  them,  during  which  tune,  and 
before  I  had  ever  seen  Virtue  Hall,  I  was  informed 
that  she  would  confess  the  wrhole  matter.  When 
she  came  before  me  she  appeared  in  tears,  vand 
seemed  all  over  in  a  trembling  condition,  upon  which 
I  endeavored  to  soothe  and  comfort  her.  The  words 
I  first  spoke  to  her,  as  well  as  I  can  rembember, 
were  these :  '  Child,  you  need  not  be  under  this  fear 
and  apprehension;  if  you  will  tell  us  the  whole 
truth  of  this  affair,  I  give  you  my  word  and  honor, 
as  far  as  it  is  in  my  power  to  protect  you,  you  shall 
come  to  no  manner  of  harm.'  She  answered  that 
she  would  tell  the  whole  truth,  but  desired  to  have 
some  time  given  her  to  recover  from  her  fright. 
Upon  this,  I  ordered  a  chair  to  be  brought  her,  and 
desired  her  to  sit  down  ;  and  then,  after  some  min 
utes,  began  to  examine  her,  which  I  continued  doing 
in  the  softest  language  and  kindest  manner  I  was 
able,  for  a  considerable  time,  till  she  had  been  guilty 
of  so  many  prevarications  and  contradictions  that  I 
told  her  I  would  examine  her  no  longer,  but  would 
commit  her  to  prison,  and  leave  her  to  stand  or  fall 
by  the  evidence  against  her ;  and  at  the  same  time 
advised  Mr.  Salt  to  prosecute  her  as  a  felon,  togeth 
er  with  the  gipsy  woman.  Upon  this  she  begged  I 
would  hear  her  once  more,  and  said  that  she  would 


24  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

tell  the  whole  truth,  and  accounted  for  her  unwilling 
ness  to  do  it  from  her  fears  of  the  gipsy  woman  and 
Wells.  I  then  asked  her  a  few  questions,  which 
she  answered  with  more  appearance  of  truth  than 
she  had  done  before ;  after  which  I  recommended 
to  Mr.  Salt  to  go  with  her,  and  take  her  information 
in  writing ;  and  at  her  parting  from  me,  I  bid  her 
to  be  a  good  girl,  and  be  sure  to  say  neither  more 
nor  less  than  the  whole  truth.  During  this  whole 
time  there  were  no  less  than  ten  or  a  dozen  persons 
of  credit  present,  who  will,  I  suppose,  testify  the 
truth  of  this  whole  transaction  as  it  is  here  related. 
Virtue  Hall  then  went  from  me,  and  returned  in 
about  two  hours ;  when  the  following  information, 
which  was,  as  she  said,  taken  from  her  mouth,  was 
read  over  to  her,  and  signed  with  her  mark." 

The  information  of  Virtue  Hall,  as  might  be  ex 
pected  from  the  circumstances  under  which  it  was 
taken,  is  a  mere  echo  to  that  of  Canning. 

What  should  we  think  at  the  present  day  of  a 
magistrate  who  received  a  fee  a»d  instructions  from 
a  prosecuting  solicitor,  who  hesitated  to  investigate 
a  charge  of  felony  because  he  wanted  a  day  or  two 
of  relaxation  in  the  country,  who  alternately  coaxed 
and  threatened  the  prisoner  who  had  been  brought 
before  him  on  his  own  warrant,  until  he  had  ob 
tained  a  confession,  and  who  then  allowed  that  pris 
oner  to  be  closeted  in  private  with  the  attorney  for 
the  prosecution,  and  to  be  sworn  to  an  information 
procured  from  her  by  the  attorney  during  that  in 
terview,  and  produced  ready  cut  and  dried !  The 
imivete  with  which  Fielding  tells  the  story  is  amus- 


ELIZABETH    CANNING.  25 

ing.  He  was  clearly  unconscious  that  he  was  doing 
anything  wrong  or  even  irregular,  and  no  doubt 
such  a  preceding  was  by  no  means  unusual.  But 
the  evidence  of  Virtue  Hall  is  under  these  circum 
stances  utterly  worthless.  We  need  feel  no  sur 
prise  that  she  afterwards,  when  the  pressure  came 
from  the  other  side,  retracted  every  word  she  had 
sworn,  and  her  testimony  may  be  cast  out  of  the 
case  altogether.*  We  still  get  no  further  than  the 
evidence  of  Elizabeth  Canning  herself. 

On  the  21st  of  February,  1753,  Mary  Squires  and 
Susannah  Wells  were  placed  at  the  bar  of  the  Old 
Bailey.  Canning  told  her  story ;  Virtue  Hall  cor 
roborated  it  point  by  point.  The  condition  in  which 
she  returned  home,  and  the  circumstances  attending 
the  capture  of  Squires  and  Wells,  were  proved  as 
we  have  narrated  them.  Squires  was  then  called 
upon  for  her  defense.  She  said  nothing,  but  called 
three  witnesses.  John  Gibbons,  who  kept  a  public- 
house  at  Abbotsbury,  near  Dorchester,  swore  that 
Squires  was  at  his  house  from  the  1st  of  January  to 
the  9th.  William  Clarke  corroborated  this  state 
ment.  Thomas  Greville,  of  Coombe,  near  Salisbury, 
deponed  that  she  was  at  his  house  on  the  14th  of 
January.  To  meet  this  evidence,  a  man  of  the  name 
of  Iniser  was  called  on  behalf  of  the  prosecution  to 
prove  that  he  had  seen  Squires  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Enfield  about  the  time  in  question — namely,  the 
first  week  in  January.  Wells,  on  being  called  upon, 
admitted  that  her  character  would  not  bear  investi- 

*  State  Trials,  six.  455,  275 ;  Gascoync's  Report ;  Dr.  Hill's  pamphlet. 
Sec  "  A.  full  and  authentic  Account,"  etc.,  p.  06. 

PUZZLES— 3. 


26  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

gation.  She  was  what  was  called  in  the  slang  of 
the  day  (rendered  classic  by  Mr.  Harrison  Ains- 
worth  and  the  Newgate-Calendar  school  of  novel 
ists)  a  "  hempen  widow."  Her  husband  had  been 
"  unfortunate."  It  is  curious  to  watch  the  changes 
of  language.  A  word  which  then  meant  that  a 
scoundrel  had  been  hanged,  now  only  implies  that 
lie  has  obtained  a  second-class  certificate  from  a  com 
missioner  of  bankruptcy.  Both  were  convicted. 
On  the  last  day  of  the  session  they  were  called  up 
for  sentence.  Squires  then  said  that  she  was  at 
Grcville's  house  at  Coombe  on  New  Year's  Day,  on 
the  next  day  at  Stopage,  on  the  Thursday  in  New 
Year's  week  at  Basingstokc,  on  Friday  at  Bagshot, 
on  Saturday  at  Old  Brentford,  where  she  remained 
on  Sunday  and  Monday ;  and  th.it  she  came  to  En- 
field  on  the  Tuesday  following.  This  account,  be 
ing  inconsistent  with  that  given  by  Gibbons,  who 
had  sworn  that  from  the  1st  to  the  9th  of  January 
she  was  at  his  house  at  Abbotsbury,  was  considered 
to  be  conclusive  of  the  falsehood  of  her  defense.  It 
seems  to  have  been  overlooked  that  the  gipsy  reck 
oned  by  the  old  style,  which  reconciles  the  two 
statements  within  two  days — no  very  serious  dis 
crepancy  when  made  by  an  ignorant  and  illiterate 
woman.  Squires  was  sentenced  to  death;  Wells 
was  condemned  to  be  branded  on  the  hand,  and  im 
prisoned,  for  six  months.  The  first  part  of  this  sen 
tence  was  immediately  executed ;  and  as  the  poor 
wretch's  hand  hissed  under  the  glowing  iron,  and 
she  writhed  and  screamed  in  agony,  a  yell  of  de 
light  burst  from  the  brutal  mob  who  crowded  the 
session-house. 


ELIZABETH 


There  was,  however,  happily  cue  man  present,  of 
sense  and  humanity.  Sir  Crispe  Gascoyne,  who 
presided  over  the  court  by  virtue  of  his  office  as 
Lord  Mayor,  doubted  the  correctness  of  the  verdict. 
He  instituted  a  close  and  careful  inquiry.  He 
found  the  evidence  of  the  Abbotsbury  men  con 
firmed  by  their  neighbors.  Virtue  Hall  retracted 
her  evidence.*  These  facts  he  laid  before  the 
Crown  on  making  his  report  of  the  convicts.  They 
were  referred  to  the  law-officers.  Squires  was  res 
pited.  The  Attorney  and  Solicitor-General  reported 
that  the  weight  of  the  evidence  was  in  the  convict's 
favor,  and  upon  this  she  received  a  free  pardon. 

A  war  of  pamphlets  now  commenced  ;  as  many 
as  thirty-six  were  published.  Fielding  on  the  one 
side  and  Ramsay  the  painter  on  the  other,  became 
respectively  the  champions  of  Canning  and  the 
gipsy.  The  newspapers  were  filled  with  the  con 
troversy.  Portraits  of  Canning  and  of  the  gipsy 
(the  latter  of  which  fully  bear  out  the  report  of  her 
ugliness)  were  displayed  in  the  shop  windows,  to 
gether  with  plans  and  views  of  Wells'  house, 
and  terrific  representations  of  the  principal  inci 
dents  of  the  story.  Grub  Street  thrived.  To  its 
hungry  inhabitants 

"  Betty  Canning  was  at  least, 
With  Gascoyne's  help,  a  six  mouths'  feast."t 

The  town  was  divided  into  Egyptians  and  Can- 
niugites.  Families  were  split  up  into  factions.  Old 
friends  who  took  different  sides  quarreled.  Mobs 

*  Report,  State  Trials,  xix,  275. 
t  Churchill  Ghost,  182. 


28  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

paraded  the  streets,  blockaded  the  entrances  to  the 
courts,  and  attacked  Sir  Crispc  Gascoync  in  Ids 
coach.  Never,  probably,  has  a  case  which  involved 
no  public  question  created  so  much  interest  and 
excitement. 

This  state  of  things  continued  for  fourteen 
months.  At  length,  on  the  29th  of  April  1754, 
Canning  was  placed  at  the  same  bar  at  which 
Squires  had  formerly  stood,  to  take  her  trial  for 
willful  and  corrupt  perjury.  Her  trial  lasted  several 
days.  The  attention  of  the  prosecution  was  di 
rected  principally  to  two  points :  first,  to  prove  the 
alibi  of  the  gipsy;  and,  secondly,  to  contradict 
Canning's  story  by  the  evidence  of  persons  who  had 
been  in  the  room  during  the  time  she  professed  to 
have  been  confined  there. 

In  support  of  the  first  of  these  issues  they  called 
as  many  as  thirty-six  witnesses;  and  certainly,  if 
numbers,  positivcness,  and  particularity  could  prove 
an  issue,  this  was  proved.  But  when  the  evidence 
comes  to  be  examined,  much  of  it  is  open  to  grave 
suspicion.  George  Squires,  the  gipsy's  son,  gave 
the  most  minute  account  of  where  he  and  his  mother 
and  sister  were,  and  what  they  did  during  the 
month  of  January.  lie  traced  their  course  day  by 
day,  and  from  place  to  place.  But  when  he  was 
asked  with  regard  to  the  rest  of  his  journey,  which 
he  stated  began  about  Michaelmas,  he  was  totally 
unable  to  answer.  His  sister,  who  was  in  court  the 
whole  time,  and  who  had  accompanied  George  and 
his  mother  in  their  travels,  was  never  examined  at 
all,  nor  was  the  gipsy  herself  placed  in  the  witness- 


ELIZABETH    CANNING.  29 

box.  It  wa:s  obvious  that  the  counsel  for  the  pros 
ecution  feared  that  they  would  give  inconsistent 
or  contradictory  accounts. 

Upon  the  second  issue,  the  principal  witnesses 
were  Fortune  Natus  and  his  wife,  who  swore  that 
they  sleft  in  the  loft  every  night  during  the  month 
of  January.  If  this  was  true,  of  course  there  is  an 
end  of  the  question.  But  it  must  be  remembered 
that,  long  before  they  were  examined,  Virtue  Hall 
had  sworn  that  the  hay  in  which  they  had  slept  in 
the  kitchen  was  removed  into  the  loft,  and  that  they 
slept  there  after  Canning's  escape,  on  purpose  to  give 
color  to  this  very  story.  It  may  also  be  asked,  why 
was  not  this  tale  told  on  the  trial  of  Squires  ?  If 
true,  the  very  first  thing  that  would  have  been  said, 
when  Canning  stated  that  she  had  been  confined  in 
that  room,  would  have  been,  "  That  cannot  be,  for 
Natus  and  his  wife  slept  there  the  whole  of  the 
time."  Yet  Natus  and  his  wife  were  present  when 
Canning  was  first  brought  down  to  Enfield;  they 
were  taken  before  Justice  Teshmaker;  they  were 
present  during  the  trial  of  Squires,  when  they  were 
not  examined,  and  this  fact,  conclusive,  if  true,  is 
never  heard  of  until  fourteen  months  afterwards! 
Is  it  possible  to  place  any  reliance  upon  evidence 
given  under  such  circumstances  ? 

The  argument  most  strongly  relied  upon  as  in 
validating  Canning's  story,  arises  from  the  absence 
of  motive  on  the  part  of  any  one  to  carry  her  off 
and  shut  her  up  as  she  described.  Canning  swore 
that  she  understood  the  gipsy's  question,  whether 
she  "  would  go  their  way,"  to  imply  that  she  should 


30  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

lead  a  life  of  prostitution.  This  was  the  interpreta 
tion  popularly  adopted ;  and  much  of  the  sympathy 
which  Canning  obtained  was  given  on  the  supposi 
tion  that  she  was  a  girl  whose  virtue  had  been  proof 
against  both  temptation  and  terror.  But  this  hypoth 
esis  will  not  bear  a  moment's  investigation.  There 
is  not  one  particle  of  evidence  that  she  was  exposed 
to  any  solicitations  whatever  of  this  kind.  Nor, 
though  it  was  the  resort  of  tramps,  gipsies,  and 
other  disreputable  characters,  docs  it  appear  that 
Mother  Wells'  was  what  is  commonly  understood 
by  a  house  of  ill-fame.  But  docs  the  absence  of  as 
signable  motive  justify  us  in  rejecting  the  story  as 
untrue?  Those  who  are  familiar  with  criminal 
courts  know  well  how  slight  and  insignificant  are 
the  motives  which  often  impel  men  to  the  most 
terrible  crimes.  Gleeson  Wilson  entered  the  house 
of  Mrs.  Henrickson,  at  Liverpool,  apparently  with 
no  other  intention  but  that  of  pilfering  such  small 
articles  as  he  might  have  an  opportunity  of  purloin 
ing  as  a  lodger ;  but  before  he  left  it  the  next  morn 
ing,  he  had  committed  four  of  the  most  atrocious 
murders  on  record.  It  is  not  more  than  three  or 
four  years  since  two  boys,  returning  home  from  their 
work,  in  broad  daylight,  in  the  middle  of  London, 
were  met  by  an  apparently  respectable  man  driving 
a  Whitechapel  cart,  Avho  inquired  his  way  to  some 
place  in  the  neighborhood.  One  of  the  boys  began 
to  give  him  directions,  when  he  asked  the  little 
fellow  to  get  into  the  cart,  and  show  him  the  road. 
Rejoicing  in  the  certainty  of  a  ride,  and  the  hope 
of  a  sixpence,  the  poor  boy  got  into  the  cart,  and 


ELIZABETH    CANNING.  31 

his  companion  went  home  to  tea.  He  was  never 
again  seen  alive.  About  six  weeks  afterwards,  his 
body,  naked,  in  a  state  of  the  most  extreme  emacia 
tion,  was  found  in  a  ditch  near  Acton.  There  was 
no  external  violence.  He  had  been  starved  to 
death.  The  police  exhausted  every  means  that  in 
genuity  could  suggest,  but  in  vain.  No  traces  have 
ever  been  discovered  how,  why,  or  by  whom  this 
appalling  crime  was  committed ;  nor  has  any  motive 
for  its  commission  been,  so  far  as  we  are  aware, 
even  suggested.  Had  Elizabeth  Canning  died  in 
the  house  of  Mother  Wells,  and  her  body  been 
thrown  into  a  ditch  in  Enfield  marsh,  an  equally 
impenetrable  mystery  would  probably  have  shrouded 
her  fate. 

Highly  improbable  every  one  must  admit  Can 
ning's  story  to  be,  and  we  must  therefore  look  with 
the  most  critical  caution  upon  the  confirmatory 
evidence,  before  we  permit  ourselves  to  admit  its 
truth.  That  confirmatory  evidence  divides  itself  into 
•two  classes.  The  first  we  may  call  the  circumstan 
tial  confirmation,  derived  from  its  coincidence  with 
existing  facts.  Such  is  the  coincidence  between 
her  description  of  the  room  and  its  contents  given 
on  the  29th  of  January,  with  the  condition  of  the 
room  actually  found  on  the  first  of  February. 
Such,  too,  is  the  coincidence  of  the  description  pre 
viously  given  by  Canning  of  the  appearance  of  the 
woman  who  cut  off  her  stays  with  the  gipsy.  This 
confirmation  is  of  course  weaker  or  stronger  in  pro 
portion  as  it  is  tainted  by  or  free  from  previous 
suggestions  from,  other  persons.  Thus,  her  descrip- 


OZ  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

tion  of  the  room,  which  was  independent  of,  and 
her  description  of  the  gipsy,  which  was  contra 
dictory  to,  Scarratt's  suggestions,  are  worthy  of 
much  consideration ;  whilst  her  description  of  the 
fields  through  which  she  passed,  of  the  tan-yard  and 
the  bridge,  given  in  reply  to  his  suggestive  ques 
tions,  is  of  little  or  no  value.  This  we  have  already 
considered.  The  second  class  is  the  extrinsic  con 
firmation  derived  from  the  testimony  of  witnesses, 
and  this  is  again  divided  into  that  which  supports 
Canning's  story,  and  that  which  contradicts  the 
alibi  set  up  by  Squires. 

As  to  the  first  of  these  subdivisions,  the  evidence 
is  scanty,  but  valuable  as  far  as  it  goes.  Th*>, 
keeper  of  the  turnpike  gate  on  Stamford  Hill,  about 
three  miles  from  Moorfields,  deposed  that,  one 
evening  early  in  January,  between  ten  and  eleven 
o'clock,  he  heard  "  something  of  a  sobbing  crying 
voice,"  coming  towards  the  gate  from  the  direction 
of  London.  The  night  was  still  and  dark,  but  as 
the  noise  approached  he  saw  two  men  dragging  a 
young  woman  along.  They  lifted  her  over  the 
stile  by  the  gate,  and  one  of  the  men  laughed  and 
said  with  an  oath,  "  How  drunk  she  is ! "  Sup 
posing  this  to  be  the  case,  and  that  the  woman  w^as 
the  Avife  or  sister  of  one  of  the  men,  besides  consid 
ering  that  he  was  sir  jle-handed,  he  did  not  inter 
fere,  and  they  passed  on  in  the  direction  of  Enfield. 
He  did  not  profess  to  identify  Canning,  nor  to  fix 
the  time  with  any  greater  certainty  than  that  it 
was  the  beginning  of  January. 

It  will  be  remembered  that,  on  her  arrival  at 
home,  Canning  said,  that  soon  after  escaping  from 


ELIZABETH   CANNING.  33 

Mother  Wells',  she  asked  her  road  to  London. 
Thomas  Bennett  deponed,  that  on  the  afternoon  of 
the  29th  of  January  he  met  a  girl  in  the  most 
wretched  and  pitiable  condition,  and  whose  des 
cription  exactly  answered  to  Canning,  about  a  quar 
ter  of  a  mile  on  the  London  side  of  Mother  Wells' 
house ;  that  she  asked  him  the  way  to  London,  and 
he  directed  her.  He  fixed  the  date  by  other  cir 
cumstances,  and  said  that  when,  a  day  or  two  after 
wards,  he  heard  of  Canning's  escape,  he  exclaimed, 
"I'll  be  hanged  if  I  did  not  meet  the  young 
woman  near  this  place,  and  told  her  the  way  to  Lon 


don." 


Daniel  Dyer  and  Mary  Cobb  gave  similar  evi 
dence  as  to  having  met  a  miserable  looking  girl 
about  the  same  time  and  place,  and  the  former 
spoke  with  some  confidence  to  Canning  as  being 
that  girl.  It  will  be  observed  that  the  other  wit 
nesses  merely  speak  to  general  similarity.  But  this, 
though  at  first  sight  it  appears  to  detract  from  the 
value  of  their  testimony,  in  fact  adds  to  its  weight. 
Had  they  not  been  giving  truthful  evidence,  they 
would  have  made  little  scruple  in  swearing  posi 
tively  to  Canning  as  being  the  person  they  saw. 

Is  it,  then,  likely  that  another  girl,  so  closely 
answering  the  description  both  as  to  person  and 
circumstances,  (both  being  so  remarkable)  should 
have  been  dragged  by  two  men  along  that  road 
towards  Enfield,  at  the  same  hour  of  the  night,  at 
the  beginning  of  January,  and  have  returned  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  29th  ?  Such  a  coincidence  appears 
almost  beyond  the  bounds  of  possibility. 


34  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

Here  the  evidence  with  regard  to  Canning  ends. 

To  meet  the  alibi  proved  by  the  thirty-six  Ab- 
botsbury  witnesses,  twenty-six  Enfield  witnesses 
were  called,  who  swore  that  they  had  seen  Mary 
Squires  at  Enfield  and  in  the  neighborhood  at 
various  times  during  the  latter  end  of  December 
and  beginning  of  January.  They  swore  to  the 
identity  of  Squires,  whom  many  of  them  had  long 
known,  with  the  utmost  certainty ;  they  gave  their 
reasons,  some  good  and  some  bad,  for  remembering 
the  time  with  the  greatest  accuracy.  Their  testi 
mony  seems  to  be  in  all  respects  equal,  and  in  some 
superior,  to  that  of  the  witnesses  who  had  proved 
the  alibi. 

Here,  then,  we  find  the  extraordinary  fact  of 
thirty-six  witnesses  positively  swearing  that  a  par 
ticular  person,  whom  they  well  knew,  was  in  Dorset 
shire  at  a  certain  time,  and  twenty-six  other  witness 
es  swearing  that  the  same  person,  whom  they  knew 
equally  well,  was  at  the  same  time  a  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  off,  in  Middlesex  !  What  are  we  to  make 
of  this  ?  We  have  turned  it  over  and  over,  looked 
at  it  this  way  and  that  way,  read  it  backwards,  and 
forwards,  and  upside  down,  and  there  it  remains, 
puzzling  us  like  a  horrid  incubus  or  incomprehensi 
ble  nightmare.  Is  any  faith  to  be  placed  in  human 
testimony  ?  Read  the  evidence  on  one  side,  and  it 
is  impossible  to  refuse  our  assent  to  it.  Read  that 
on  the  other,  and  it  is  equally  conclusive.  The  alibi 
and  the  ill  are  each  supported  by  a  train  of  evi 
dence  which  appears  irresistible. 

The  Recorder  told  the  jury  that  if  they  believed 
the  Enfield  witnesses,  the  Abbotsbury  witnesses 


ELIZABETH   CANNING.  35 

must  be  willfully  perjured ;  but  he  forgot  to  add, 
that  if  they  believed  the  Abbotsbury  witnesses,  an 
equally  unpleasant  consequence  followed  as  to  the 
Enfield  witnesses. 

The  verdict  of  the  jury  was  of  a  piece  with  the 
rest  of  the  case.  They  found  that  Canning  was 
"guilty  of  perjury,  but  not  willful  and  corrupt" 

This  verdict  was  of  course  an  acquittal,  but  the 
Recorder  refused  to  receive  it;  whereupon  the  jury 
"  turned  their  backs  upon  themselves,"  and  having 
first  declared  on  their  oaths  that  she  was  not  guilty 
of  willful  and  corrupt  perjury,  declared  on  the  same 
oaths  that  she  nets.  And  to  complete  the  mass  of 
absurdity  and  contradiction,  some  of  the  jury  after 
wards  made  an  affidavit  that  they  believed  Can 
ning's  story  in  the  main,  but  found  her  guilty  be 
cause  they  thought  there  was  some  discrepancy  as 
to  the  day  on  which  she  had  exhausted  her  pitcher 
of  water. 

Of  the  court,  which,  as  then  constituted,  consisted 
of  a  mixed  body  of  judges  and  city  magistrates,  nine 
members  were  for  condemning  the  prisoner  to  trans 
portation  for  seven  years,  and  eight  for  inflicting 
only  a  short  period  of  imprisonment,  so  evenly  were 
opinions  divided.  She  was  accordingly  transported. 
The  sympathy  and  compassion  which  had  been  ex 
cited  by  her  case  did  not  cease.  A  considerable 
sum  of  money  was  collected  for  her.  After  the  ter 
mination  of  her  sentence  she  returned  to  England, 
and  the  last  notice  we  find  of  her  is  the  following, 
which  is  contained  in  the  "  Annual  Register "  for 
1761,  p.  179:  "Elizabeth  Canning  is  arrived  in 


36  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

England,  and  received  a  legacy  of  £500,  left  her 
three  years  ago  by  an  old  lady  of  Newington  Green." 
Wells  returned  to  Enfield,  where  she  died,  as  ap 
pears  by  the  parish  register,  on  the  5th  of  October, 
1763.  What  became  of  the  gipsy  we  know  not. 
Thus  ends  the  case  of  Elizabeth  Canning — a  case 
eminently  fitted  to  give  occasion  to  the  wannest, 
most  eager,  and  most  confident  partisanship,  inas 
much  as  it  is  almost  impossible,  after  the  coolest  and 
most  deliberate  examination,  to  say  to  which  side 
the  balance  of  evidence  inclines. 


II. 

THE  CAMPDEN 

The  little  market-town  of  Chipping-Cainpden  lies 
on  the  verge  of  the  Cotswold  Hills.  It  is  a  quaint 
old  place,  formed  of  one  straggling  street  of  low- 
gabled  houses,  with  an  ancient  market-house  in  the 
middle.  The  ruins  of  Campden  House,  built  in  the 
year  1612  by  Sir  Baptist  Hickes,  (the  princely  mer 
chant  who  erected  Hickes'  Hall,  and  gave  it  to  the 
county  of  Middlesex)  remain  a  monument  of  the 
loyalty  of  his  grandson,  Baptist  Lord  Noel,  who 
burnt  his  magnificent  mansion  to  prevent  it  from 
falling  into  the  hands  of  the  Parliament  troops. 

Railroads  have  only  lately  traversed  this  out-of- 
the-way  part  of  England.  It  is  not  on  the.  high-road 
to  anywhere,  and  though  the  country  around  possess 
es  beauties  peculiarly  its  own,  it  has  never  been  fre 
quented  by  tourists.  It  is  best  known  by  the  love 
which  Shakespeare  evidently  bore  to  it.  There  can 
be  no  doubt  that  it  was  the  haunt  of  his  boyhood. 
When  Slender  taunts  Master  Page  by  telling  him 
that  he  hears  his  "  fallow  greyhound  was  outrun  on 
Cotswold,"  we  may  be  sure  that  many  a  course  on 
those  wide  and  then  open  downs  must  have  risen  to 
Shakespeare's  recollection.  It  is  here,  too,  that  he 
places  that  pleasant  arbor  in  Justice  Shallow's 
orchard,  where  he  ate  "  a  last  year's  pippen  of  his 
own  grafting,  with  a  dish  of  carraways,  and  so  forth," 

PUZZLES— 4.  [ 37 ] 


JUDICIAL    TUZZLES. 

with  Falstaff  and  his  "  cousin  Silence."  It  was  "  a 
goodly  dwelling  and  a  rich."  Cousin  Silence  was, 
we  have  no  doubt,  a  Campden  manj  and  trolled  out 
liis  fragments  of  carols  at  the  little  bowling-green 
there.  Shakespeare  tells  us  that  he  was  a  towns 
man.  "  Is  old  Double  of  your  town  living  yet  ?  " 
Old  Double,  who  is  immortal  because  he  died.  "  See, 
see ! — he  drew  a  good  bow.  And  dead ! — he  shot  a 
fine  shoot.  John  of  Gaunt  loved  him  well,  and  bet 
ted  much  money  on  his  head.  Dead  !  How  a  score 
of  good  ewes  now?  And  is  old  Double  dead?" 

He  probably  acquired  the  skill  as  an  archer,  which 
endeared  him  to  "  John  of  Gaunt,"  at  those  games 
on  Dover's  Hill,  in  the  immediate  neighborhood, 
which  were  celebrated  by  Ben  Jonson,  and  which 
were  held  there  annually  until  a  few  years  ago. 
"  Will  Squele,"  too,  was  a  "  Cotswold  man."  Shake 
speare  must  have  loved  the  place,  or  he  never  would 
have  coined  so  endearing  a  name.  Who  has  not  a 
kindly  feeling  towards  Will  Squele?  The  com 
mentators  have  puzzled  themselves  greatly  after 
their  usual  fashion,  and  have  devised  ingenious  and 
improbable  reasons  why  Falstaff's  tailor  should  be 
one  "  Master  Dombledon."  They  have  sought  for 
abstruse  meanings  in  the  name,  stupidly  fancying 
that  it  was  originally  written  Doublcdonc,  and  im 
plied  a  double  charge.  It  is  simply  the  name  of  a 
hill  a  few  miles  beyond  Campden,  and  the  use  of  it 
affords  an  additional  proof  of  Shakespeare's  familiar 
ity  with  the  country. 

This  little  town  was,  in  the  year  1GGO,  the  scene 
of  a  tragedy  so  extraordinary  that  it  is  still  remem 
bered  by  the  name  of  "The  Campden  Wonder." 


THE    CAMPDEX    WONDER.  39 

On  the  16th  of  August  in  that  year,  an  old  man 
of  the  name  of  William  Harrison,  who  was  stew 
ard  to  Lady  Campden,  and  resided  in  the  part  of 
Campden  House  which  still  remained  habitable, 
went  on  foot  to  Charringworth,  a  village  about  two 
miles  distant,  to  receive  some  rents.  He  did  not 
return  so  soon  as  was  expected,  and  his  wife,  feeling 
some  alarm  at  his  absence,  sent  his  servant,  John 
Perry,  to  meet  him,  about  eight  or  nine  o'clock. 
Neither  Perry  nor  his  master  returning  that  night, 
the  son  of  the  latter  set  out  early  in  the  morning  in 
search  of  his  father.  On  his  way  towards  Charring 
worth  he  met  Perry,  who  told  him  that  his  father 
was  not  at  that  place,  and  they  went  together  in 
search  of  him  to  Ebrington,  (a  village  between 
Campden  and  Charringworth)  where  they  were  in 
formed  that  Harrison  had  called  the  evening  before 
at  the  house  of  a  man  of  the  name  of  Daniel,  on  his 
return  from  Charringworth,  but  had  almost  imme 
diately  proceeded  on  his  way  towards  Campden. 
This  was  the  last  they  could  hear  of  the  old  man. 
But  in  the  meantime  a  hat  and  comb,  much  hacked 
and  cut,  and  a  band  stained  with  blood,  which  was 
recognized  as  having  been  worn  by  him  on  that 
night,  were  found  in  a  wild  spot,  near  a  large  furze 
brake,  between  Ebrington  and  Campden.  The  re 
port  immediately,  and  very  naturally,  arose  that 
Mr.  Harrison  had  been  waylaid,  robbed,  and  mur 
dered,  and  the  whole  population  of  the  town 
turned  out  to  search  for  his  body.  Their  search  was 
in  vain  —  no  trace  of  it  could  be  discovered.  Suspi 
cion  fell  upon  John  Perry.  The  spot  where  the 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 


40  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

hat  was  found  was  just  where  he  would  have  been 
likely  to  have  met  him  on  his  return.  He  knew 
that  he  was  going  to  receive  a  considerable  sum  of 
money.  His  master  had  left  Ebrington  safe.  Per 
ry's  absence  during  the  whole  of  the  night  was  sus 
picious.  The  natural  thing  would  have  been,  had 
he  failed  to  meet  his  master,  to  have  returned  at 
once  to  Campden.  He  was  taken  into  custody,  and 
the  next  day  was  brought  before  a  justice  of  peace. 
The  account  he  gave  was,  that  he  had  started  on  his 
way  towards  Charringworth  immediately  upon  re 
ceiving  his  mistress'  orders  to  do  so  ;  that  after  go 
ing  a  short  distance,  he  met  a  man  of -the  name  of 
Reed,  and,  feeling  afraid  to  go  on  in  the  dark,  had 
returned  with  him  to  Campden ;  that  he  had  started 
again  with  one  Pearce,  and,  after  going  a  short  dis 
tance,  had  again  returned.  That  he  then  went  into 
the  hen-roost,  Avherc  he  remained  till  about  twelve 
o'clock,  when,  the  moon  having  risen,  he  took  cour 
age  and  again  set  out ;  but  a  mist  rising,  he  lost  his 
way,  and  lay  under  a  hedge  till  morning,  when  he 
went  on  to  Charringworth,  and  inquired  for  his  mas 
ter  of  one  Edward  Plaistercr,  who  told  him  that  he 
had  paid  him  twenty- three  pounds  the  afternoon  pre 
vious.  That  he  made  further  inquiries,  but  without 
success ;  and  on  his  return  home,  about  five  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  met  his  master's  son.  This  account, 
which  was  confirmed  by  the  three  men  he  referred 
to,  was  not  considered  satisfactory,  and,  after  re 
maining  in  custody  about  a  week,  Perry  expressed 
a  desire  to  be  taken  before  the  justice,  to  whom  he 
said  he  Avould  disclose  what  he  would  discover  to 
no  one  else. 


THE    CAMPDEX    WOXDEK.  41 

He  then  said  that,  ever  since  he  had  been  in  his 
master's  service,  his  mother  and  his  brother  had 
been  urging  him  to  join  them  in  robbing  him.  That 
their  scheme  was  to  waylay  him  on  his  return  from 
receiving  the  rents.  That  he  had  accordingly  in 
formed  his  brother,  on  the  morning  of  the  day  when 
Mr.  Harrison  went  to  Charringworth,  of  the  errand 
upon  which  he  had  gone.  That  on  the  same  even 
ing,  immediately  after  he  had  received  his  mistress' 
orders,  he  met  his  brother,  and  they  went  together 
towards  Charringworth.  That  he  watched  his  mas 
ter,  on  his  return,  go  into  a  field  called  the  Cony- 
gree,  through  which  a  private  path,  which  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  using,  led  to  his  house.  That  he 
told  his  brother  that  "  if  he  followed  him  he  might 
have  his  money,  and  he  in  the  meantime  would 
walk  a  turn  in  the  fields."  That  soon  afterwards, 
following  his  brother,  he  found  his  master  on  the 
ground  in  the  middle  of  the  field,  his  brother 
upon  him,  and  his  mother  standing  by.  That  his 
master  was  not  then  dead,  for  he  exclaimed,  "  Ah, 
rogues!  will  you  kill  me?"  That  he  begged  his 
brother  not  to  kill  him;  but  he  replied,  "Peace, 
peace !  you  are  a  fool " — and  strangled  him.  That 
his  brother  took  a  bag  of  money  out  of  his  master's 
pocket,  and  threw  it  into  his  mother's  lap ;  that  they 
then  carried  the  body  into  the  garden,  intending  to 
throw  it  into  a  large  sink ;  that  he  left  it  in  the  gar 
den,  and  went  to  watch  and  listen,  whilst,  as  he  be 
lieved,  his  mother  and  brother  put  the  body  into 
the  sink ;  but  whether  they  did  so  or  not  he  could 
not  positively  say.  That  going  back  into  the  town  he 


42  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

met  PcurcG,  and  wont  with  him  towards  Chtirring- 
wortli,  as  he  had  before  stated.  That  he  then  re 
turned  to  the  hen-roost,  and  taking  his  master's  hat, 
band,  and  comb,  he  cut  them  with  his  knife,  and 
threw  them  in  the  road  where  they  were  found. 

Upon  this,  strict  searcli  was  made  for  the  body, 
not  only  in  the  place  which  Perry  had  mentioned, 
but  in  all  ponds  in  the  neighborhood,  and  amongst 
the  ruins  of  Campden  House — but  in  vain.  Joan 
and  Richard  Perry,  the  mother  and  brother  of  John, 
were  taken  into  custody.  They  vehemently  pro 
tested  their  innocence,  and  upbraided  John  for  his 
falsehood.  He  still,  however,  stuck  to  his  story, 
and  retorted  upon  them  with  bitter  reproaches  for 
having  urged  him  to  the  commission  of  so  horrible 
a  crime — affirming  that  he  had  spoken  nothing  but 
the  truth,  and  declaring  that  he  was  ready  to  justify 
it  to  his  death. 

Immediately  after  the  examination  of  the  prison 
ers  before  the  magistrate,  a  very  remarkable  cir 
cumstance  occurred.  They  were  removed  sepa 
rately,  and  of  course  in  custody,  John  being  some 
distance  in  advance  of  Richard.  The  latter,  "  pull 
ing  a  clout  out  of  his  pocket,  dropped  a  ball  of 
inkle,  which  one  of  his  guard  taking  up,  he  desired 
him  to  restore,  saying  it  was  only  his  wife's  hair- 
lace."'  The  constable,  finding  a  noose  at  the  end  of 
it,  and  feeling  some  suspicion,  took  it  to  John  and 
asked  him  if  he  knew  anything  of  it,  on  which  John 
shook  his  head  and  said,  "Yea,  to  his  sorrow;  for 
that  was  the  string  /us  Irotlier  strangled  Jus  master 
with? 


THE    CAMPDEN   WONDEE.  43 

Unfortunately,  the  only  narrative  which  exists  of 
this  singular  case  diverges  at  this  point  into  mat 
ters  irrelevant  to  the  main  issue ;  but  at  the  spring 
assizes  following,  after  an  interval  of  something 
more  than  six  months,  the  three  Perrys  were  tried 
for  the  murder.  Up  to  this  time,  John  Perry  had 
persisted  in  his  story.  On  the  trial,  however,  he, 
like  his  mother  and  brother,  pleaded  not  guilty,  and 
when  his  confession  was  proved,  alleged  that  he 
was  "then  mad,  and  knew  not  what  he  said." 

We  are  left  in  ignorance  what  evidence,  beyond 
the  confession  of  John,  was  produced  at  the  trial. 
That  there  must  have  been  some  is  clear,  as  that 
confession,  though  evidence  against  John,  was  none 
against  his  mother  or  Richard.  All  three  were 
convicted,  and  a  few  days  afterwards  hanged,  on 
Broadway  Hill,  within  sight  of  the .  town  of 
Campden. 

As  Joan  Perry  was  suspected  to  be  a  witch,  and 
was  supposed  to  have  bewitched  her  sons  so  as  to 
prevent  them  from  confessing,  she  was  hanged  first. 
"After  which,  Richard,  being  upon  the  ladder,  pro 
fessed,  as  he  had  done  all  along,  that  he  was  wholly 
innocent  of  the  fact  for  which  he  was  then  to  die  ; 
and  that  he  knew  nothing  of  Mr.  Harrison's  death, 
nor  what  was  become  of  him ;  and  did  with  great 
earnestness  beg  and  beseech  his  brother  (for  the 
satisfaction  of  the  whole  world  and  his  own  con 
science)  to  declare  what  he  knew  concerning  him ; 
but  he,  with  a  dogged  and  surly  carriage,  told  the 
people  he  was  not  obliged  to  confess  to  them; 
yet  immediately  before  his  death  he  said  he  knew 


44  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

nothing  of  his  master's  death,  nor  what  was  become 
of  him,  but  they  might  hereafter  possibly  hear." 

John  Perry  was  hanged  in  chains  upon  a  gibbet 
placed  on  the  Broadway  Hill. 

Some  years  afterwards  Mr.  Harrison  returned  to 
Campden.  The  account  he  gave  of  the  cause  of 
liis  disappearance,  and  of  his  adventures  during  the 
period  of  his  absence,  in  a  letter  to  Sir  Thomas 
Overbury  of  Bourton,  (the  nephew  and  heir  of  the 
unhappy  victim  of  the  infamous  Countess  of  Somer 
set)  is  so  curious  that  we  give  it  entire/* 

"  HONORED  SIR  :  In  obedience  to  your  com 
mands,  I  give  you  this  true  account  of  my  being 
carried  away  beyond  the  seas,  my  continuance  there, 
and  return  home.  On  a  Thursday,  in  the  after 
noon,  in  the  time  of  harvest,  I  went  to  Charring- 
worth  to  demand  rents,  due  to  my  Lady  Campden ; 
at  which  time  the  tenants  were  busy  in  the  fields, 
and  late  ere  they  came  home,  which  occasioned  my 
stay  there  till  the  close  of  the  evening.  I  expected 
a  considerable  sum,  but  received  only  tlirec-and- 
twenty  pounds,  and  no  more.  In  my  return  home 
(in  the  narrow  passage,  amongst  Ebrington  furzes) 
there  met  me  one  horseman,  and  said,  'Art  thou 
there  ? '  and  I,  fearing  that  he  would  have  rid  over 
me,  struck  his  horse  over  the  nose;  whereupon 
he  struck  at  me  with  his  sword  several  blows,  and 
ran  it  into  my  side,  while  I  (with  my  little  cane) 
made  my  defense  as  well  as  I  could.  At  last 
another  came  behind  me,  run  me  into  the  thigh, 
laid  hold  on  the  collar  of  iny  doublet,  and  drew 

*14  State  Trials,  1313— note  to  the  case  of  Captain  Green. 


THE    CAMPDEN   WONDEE.  45 

me  to  a  hedge  near  the  place;  then  came  in  an 
other.  They  did  not  take  my  money,  but  mounted 
me  behind  one  of  them,  drew  my  arms  about 
his  middle,  and  fastened  my  wrists  together  with 
something  that  had  a  spring-lock  to  it,  as  I  con 
ceived,  by  hearing  it  give  a  snap  as  they  put  it  on ; 
then  they  threw  a  great  cloak  over  me,  and  conveyed 
me  away.  In  the  night  they  alighted  at  a  hay-rick 
which  stood  near  unto  a  stone  pit  by  a  wall-side, 
where  they  took  away  my  money.  About  two 
hours  before  day  (as  I  heard  one  of  them  tell  the 
other  he  thought  it  to  be  then)  they  tumbled  me 
into  the  stone  pit.  They  stayed  (as  I  thought) 
about  an  hour  at  the  hay-rick,  when  they  took  horse 
again.  One  of  them  bade  me  come  out  of  the  pit ; 
I  answered  they  had  my  money  already,  and  asked 
what  they  would  do  with  me ;  whereupon  he  struck 
me  again,  drew  me  out,  and  pnt  a  great  quantity  of 
money  into  my  pockets,  and  mounted  me  again  after 
the  same  manner ;  and  on  the  Friday,  about  sunset- 
ting,  they  brought  me  to  a  lone  house  upon  a  heath 
(by  a  thicket  of  bushes)  where  they  took  me  down 
almost  dead,  being  sorely  bruised  with  the  carriage 
of  the  money.  When  the  woman  of  the  house  saw 
that  I  could  neither  stand  nor  speak,  she  asked  them 
whether  or  no  they  had  brought  a  dead  man  ?  They 
answered  no,  but  a  friend  that  was  hurt,  and  they 
were  carrying  him  to  a  chirurgeon.  She  answered, 
if  they  did  not  make  haste,  their  friend  would  be 
dead  before  they  could  bring  him  to  one.  Then 
they  laid  me  on  cushions,  and  suffered  none  to  come 
into  the  room  but  a  little  girl.  There  we  stayed  all 


46  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

night,  they  giving  me  some  broth  and  strong  waters ; 
and  in  the  morning,  very  early,  they  mounted  me 
as  before,  and  on  Saturday  night  they  brought  me 
to  a  place  where  were  two  or  three  houses,  in  one 
of  which  I  lay  all  night  on  cushions  by  their  bedside. 
On  Sunday  morning  they  carried  me  from  thence, 
and  about  three  or  four  o'clock  they  brought  me  to 
a  place  by  the  sea-side,  called  Deal,  where  they  laid 
me  down  on  the  ground ;  and  one  of  them  staying 
by  me,  the  other  two  walked  a  little  off  to  meet  a 
man,  with  whom  they  talked,  and  in  their  discourse 
I  heard  them  mention  seven  pounds ;  after  which 
they  went  away  together,  and  about  half  an  hour 
after  returned.  The  man  (whose  name,  as  I  after 
heard,  was  Wrenshaw)  said  he  feared  I  would  die 
before  he  could  get  me  on  board.  Then  presently 
they  put  me  into  a  boat,  and  carried  me  on  ship 
board,  where  my  wounds  were  dressed.  I  remained 
in  the  ship  (as  near  as  I  could  reckon)  about  six- 
weeks,  in  which  time  I  was  indifferently  recovered 
of  my  wounds  and  weakness.  Then  the  master  of 
the  ship  came  and  told  me  (and  the  rest  who  were 
in  the  same  condition)  that  he  discovered  three 
Turkish  ships.  We  all  offered  to  fight  in  the  de 
fense  of  the  ship  and  ourselves,  but  lie  commanded 
us  to  keep  close,  and  said  he  would  deal  with  them 
well  enough.  A  little  while  after  he  called  us  up, 
and  when  we  came  on  the  deck  we  saw  two  Turkish 
ships  close  by  us  ;  into  one  of  them  we  were  put, 
and  placed  in  a  dark  hole,  where  how  long  we  con 
tinued  before  we  landed,  I  know  not.  When  we 
were  landed  they  led  us  two  days'  journey,  and  put 


THE    CAMPDEX    WOXDEK.  47 

us  into  a  great  house  or  prison,  where  we  remained 
four  days  and  a  half  ;  and  then  came  to  us  eight  men 
to  view  us,  who  seemed  to  be  officers ;  they  called 
us,  and  examined  us  of  our  trades  and  callings, 
which  every  one  answered.  One  said  he  was  a 
chirurgeon,  another  that  he  was  a  broadcloth  weaver, 
and  I  (after  two  or  three  demands)  said  I  had  some 
skill  in  physic.  We  three  were  set  by,  and  taken 
by  three  of  those  eight  men  that  came  to  view  us. 
It  was  my  chance  to  be  chosen  by  a  grave  physician 
of  eighty-seven  years  of  age,  who  lived  near  Smyrna, 
who  had  formerly  been  in  England,  and  knew  Crow- 
land  in  Lincolnshire,  which  he  preferred  before  all 
other  places  in  England.  He  employed  me  to  keep 
his  still-house,  and  gave  me  a  silver  bowl,  double 
gilt,  to  drink  in.  My  business  was  most  in  that 
place ;  but  once  he  set  me  to  gather  cotton  wool, 
which  I  not  doing  to  his  mind,  he  struck  me  down 
to  the  ground,  and  after  drew  his  stiletto  to  stab 
me ;  but  I,  holding  up  my  hands  to  him,  he  gave 
a  stamp,  and  turned  from  me,  for  which  I  render 
thanks  to  my  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  who 
stayed  his  hand  and  preserved  me.  I  was  there 
about  a  year  and  three-quarters,  and  then  my  master 
fell  sick  on  a  Thursday,  and  sent  for  me,  and  calling 
me,  as  he  used,  by  the  name  of  Boll,  told  me  he 
should  die,  and  bade  me  shift  for  myself.  He  died 
on  Saturday  following,  and  I  presently  hastened 
with  my  bowl  to  a  port  almost  a  day's  journey  dis 
tant,  the  way  to  which  place  I  knew,  having  been 
twice  there,  employed  by  my  master  about  the  car 
riage  of  his  cotton  wool.  When  I  came  thither,  I 


48  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

addressed  myself  to  two  men  who  came  out  of  a 
ship  of  Hamborough,  which  (as  they  said)  was 
bound  for  Portugal  within  three  or  four  days.  I 
inquired  of  them  for  an  English  ship ;  they  answered, 
there  was  none.  I  entreated  them  to  take  me  into 
their  ship ;  they  answered,  they  durst  not,  for  fear 
of  being  discovered  by  the  searchers,  which  might 
occasion  the  forfeiture,  not  only  of  their  goods,  but 
also  of  their  lives.  I  was  very  importunate  with 
them,  but  could  not  prevail ;  they  left  me  to  wait 
on  Providence,  which  at  length  brought  another  out 
of  the  same  ship,  to  whom  I  made  known  my  con 
dition,  craving  his  assistance  for  my  transportation ; 
lie  made  me  the  like  answer  as  the  former,  and  was 
as  stiff  in  his  denial,  till  the  sight  of  my  bowl  put 
him  to  a  pause.  He  returned  to  the  ship,  and  after 
half  an  hour's  space  he  came  back  again,  accom 
panied  with  another  seaman,  and  for  my  bowl  un 
dertook  to  transport  me  ;  but  told  me  I  must  be 
contented  to  lie  down  in  the  keel,  and  endure  much 
hardship,  which  I  was  content  to  do,  to  gain  my 
liberty.  So  they  took  me  aboard,  and  placed  me 
below  in  the  vessel,  in  a  very  uneasy  place,  and 
obscured  me  with  boards  and  other  things,  where  I 
lay  undiscovered,  notwithstanding  the  strict  search 
that  was  made  in  the  vessel.  My  two  chapmen, 
who  had  my  bowl,  honestly  furnished  me  with 
victuals  daily  until  we  arrived  at  Lisbon,  in  Port 
ugal,  where  (as  soon  as  the  master  had  left  the  ship, 
and  was  gone  into  the  city)  they  set  me  on  shore, 
moneyless,  to  shift  for  myself.  I  knew  not  what 
course  to  take,  but,  as  Providence  led  me,  I  went 


THE    CAMPDEN   WONDER.  49 

up  into  the  city,  and  came  into  a  fair  street ;  and 
being  weary,  I  turned  my  back  to  a  wall,  and  leaned 
upon  my  staff.  Over  against  me  were  four  gentle 
men  discoursing  together.  After  a  while,  one  of 
them  came  to  me,  and  spake  to  me  in  a  language 
that  I  understood  not.  I  told  him  I  was  an  English 
man,  and  understood  not  what  he  spake.  He  an 
swered  me  in  plain  English,  that  he  understood  me, 
and  was  himself  born  near  Wisbech,  in  Lincolnshire  •* 
then  I  related  to  him.  my  sad  condition;  and  he, 
taking  compassion  on  me,  took  me  with  him,  pro 
vided  for  me  lodging  and  diet,  and  by  his  interest 
with  a  master  of  a  ship  bound  for  England,  procured 
my  passage ;  and  bringing  me  on  shipboard,  he  be 
stowed  wine  and  strong  waters  on  me,  and,  at  his 
return,  gave  me  eight  stivers,  and  commended  me 
to  the  care  of  the  master  of  the  ship,  who  landed 
me  safe  at  Dover,  from  whence  I  made  shift  to  get 
to  London,  where,  being  furnished  with  necessaries, 
I  came  into  the  country. 

"  Thus,  honored  sir,  I  have  given  you  a  true  ac 
count  of  my  sufferings,  and  happy  deliverance  by 
the  mercy  and  goodness  of  God,  my  most  gracious 
Father  in  Jesus  Christ,  my  Saviour  and  Redeemer, 
to  whose  name  be  ascribed  all  honor,  praise,  and 
glory.  I  conclude,  and  rest,  your  worships,  in  all 
dutiful  respect,  WILLIAM  HARRISON." 

It  is  difficult  to  say  what  amount  of  credence 
should  be  given  to  this  extraordinary  narrative. 
On  the  one  hand  it  appears  impossible  to  assign  a 
sufficient  motive  for  kidnapping  the  old  man.  The 

TCZZLES— 5. 


50  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

persons  who  attacked  him  would  have  been  exposed 
to  far  less  danger  of  detection  had  they  either  mur 
dered  him  at  once,  or  left  him  to  take  his  chance  of 
life  in  the  stone  pit  after  the  robbery ;  and  much 
profit  was  not  likely  to  accrue  from  the  sale  of  the 
old  man  as  a  slave.  On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be 
remembered  that  the  country  was  at  that  time  in  a 
disturbed  state,  and  that  the  risk  of  detection  must 
not  be  estimated  by  what  it  would  be  at  the  present 
day ;  that  kidnapping  was  not  an  uncommon  crime ; 
and  that  no  other  mode  of  accounting  for  Harrison's 
disappearance  has  ever  been  suggested.  But  be 
this  story  true  or  not,  the  fact  that  he  had  not  been 
murdered  is  unquestionable.  The  innocence  of  the 
Pcrrys  of  the  crime  for  which  they  had  suffered 
death  was  established  beyond  the  possibility  of 
doubt ;  and  we  have  to  deal  with  the  fact,  a  start 
ling  one  certainly,  that  John  Perry  not  only  sacri 
ficed  the  lives  of  two  persons  with  whom  he  was 
closely  connected,  but  his  own  also,  to  a  falsehood 
which  he  had  no  motive  whatever  for  committing. 
This  opens  one  of  the  darkest  and  strangest  pages 
in  the  history  of  human  nature.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  he  was  a  victim  of  that  remarkable  form 
of  mental  disease  which  induces  the  sufferer  to 
charge  himself  and  others  with  imaginary  crimes — 
a  malady  far  more  common  than  ordinary  observers 
suppose.  From  the  earliest  periods  as  to  which  we 
have  any  records,  down  to  the  present  day,  this  ter 
rible  disease  has  from  time  to  time  presented  itself 
under  various  forms.  The  purest  minds  and  the 
highest  intellects  have  suffered  from  it  no  less  than 


THE    CAMPDEX    WONDER.  51 

the  ignorant  and  the  degraded.  Indeed,  it  would 
seem  as  if  those  minds  which  are  most  delicately 
strung,  and  tuned  to  the  most  refined  sensibility, 
are  peculiarly  liable  to  its  attack.  Few  men  prob 
ably  have  led  so  pure  and  innocent  a  life,  or  one 
which  afforded  so  little  ground  for  self-reproval,  as 
the  poet  Cowper;  yet  he  has  told  us  that  "the 
sense  of  sin  and  the  expectation  of  punishment," 
the  "  feeling  that  he  had  committed  a  crime  " — he 
knew  not  what — was  ever  present  to  his  mind. 

There  is  one  incident  of  this  disease,  with  regard 
to  which  those  who  (as  has  been  the  case  with  our 
selves  in  more  instances  than  one)  are  brought  into 
contact  with  the  sufferer,  should  be  especially  upon 
their  guard.  So  thoroughly  is  he  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  his  story,  he  narrates  it  with  such  earnest 
ness  and  simplicity,  that  unless  some  circumstance 
has  occurred  to  put  the  listener  upon  his  guard,  it 
is  next  to  impossible  for  him  to  refuse  his  assent  to 
its  truth.  As  one,  who  has  left  a  record  of  the  im 
pressions  produced  on  his  own  mind  during  the 
prevalence  of  delusion,  has  told  us,  "  of  the  two,  the 
appearance  of  the  bed,  walls,  and  furniture  of  his 
room  was  false,  not  his  preternatural  impressions,"* 
it  follows,  from  this  strong  internal  conviction,  that 
nothing  surprises  or  startles  the  sufferers.  When 
John  Perry  was  shown  the  cord  which  fell  from  his 
brother's  pocket,  had  he  been  fabricating  a  story  he 
would  have  paused  to  consider  what  he  should  say, 
and  would  very  probably  have  been  betrayed  into  a 

*  Narrative  of  tlie  Treatment  of  a  Gentleman  during  Derangement, 
03.     1838. 


52  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

contradiction  or  an  inconsistency.  But  his  diseased 
imagination  at  once  seized  upon  the  circumstance 
as  food  for  the  delusion  with  which  his  mind  was 
impressed,  and  wove  it  into  the  narrative  in  a  man 
ner  which  bore  the  closest  possible  resemblance  to 
actual  truth,  because  to  his  mind  it  was  truth. 

A  case  which,  in  some  of  its  features,  bore  a 
striking  resemblance  to  that  of  the  Perrys,  is  re 
corded  as  having  happened  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Calais,  nearly  a  century  earlier. 

A  woman  disappeared,  and  suspicion  arose  that 
she  had  been  made  away  with.  A  man  was  found 
lurking  in  a  wood  in  the  neighborhood,  and,  be 
traying  symptoms  of  fear  and  apprehension,  he  was 
arrested  on  suspicion  of  having  murdered  her, 
confessed  the  crime,  and  A^as  executed.  In  two 
years  the  woman  returned.  The  heir  of  the  un 
happy  sufferer  sued  the  judge  who  had  condemned 
him  for  damages.  They  ought  not,  it  was  argued, 
to  have  condemned  any  one  for  the  murder  until 
the  body  had  been  found,  or  its  absence  satisfac 
torily  accounted  for ;  in  other  words,  until  the  cor 
pus  delicti  had  been  proved* — -a  principle  well 
known  to  our  law,  and  acted  upon,  in  the  first  in 
stance,  in  the  case  of  the  Perrys,  whom  Sir  Christo 
pher  Turner  refused  to  try  at  the  assizes  immedi 
ately  following  their  apprehension,  on  this  very 
ground.  How  the  difficulty  was  got  over  after 
wards  does  not  appear. 

It  is  like  calling  up  spirits  from  the  dead  to  open 

*  Annseus  Robertas,  lib.  1,  c.  iv. 


THE    CAMPDEN   WONDER.  53 

the  stained  and  faded  pages  of  the  old  reporters  of 
the  proceedings  in  the  Parliament  of  Paris,  or  the 
equally  interesting  records  of  trials  in  our  own 
country,  and  to  read  the  harangues  of  forgotten 
advocates  upon  interests  long  gone  by,  passions  long 
burnt  out,  and  superstitions  which  the  world  has 
outgrown.  Nothing  is  more  curious  and  interesting 
than  to  note  how,  through  each  change  of  circum 
stance  and  opinion,  the  human  mind  remains  the 
same,  and  to  observe  the  mode  in  which  its  delu 
sions  shape  and  accommodate  themselves  to  the 
prevailing  belief  of  the  day,  or  the  particular  cir 
cumstances  by  which  the  patient  is  surrounded. 

In  the  year  1662,  the  parish  of  Aulderne,  about 
midway  between  Cawdor  and  Torres,  (the  scene  of 
Macbeth's  interview  with  the  witches)  witnessed  a 
very  remarkable  display  of  the  former  kind.  "  Mas 
ter  Harie  Forbes,"  the  minister  of  the  parish,  Wil 
liam  Dallas,  the  Sheriff-Depute,  and  the  other  mag 
nates  of  the  neighborhood,  assembled  to  receive  the 
full  and  voluntary  confession  of  Isabell  Gowdie. 
This  confession  is  perhaps  the  most  curious  docu 
ment  that  is  to  be  found  relating  to  the  history  of 
witchcraft.  We  certainly  know  of  none  that  is  so 
comprehensive.  It  is  a  compendium  of  the  learning 
on  that  very  curious  subject,  and  it  is  especially 
valuable  for  the  internal  evidence  which  it  contains, 
that  it  was  voluntary  and  sincere — so  minute,  par 
ticular,  and  earnest  is  it,  that  even  now  it  is  diffi 
cult  to  keep  in  mind  that  it  was  merely  the  creation 
of  a  diseased  brain. 

Isabell  first  met  the  devil  accidentally  between 


54  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

the  farmlands  of  Drumdewin  and  llic  sea-shore,  but 
he  prevailed  upon  her  to  give  him  an  assignation  at 
night  in  the  kirk  of  Aldcrne.  There  they  met,  Isa- 
bell  being  accompanied  by  a  confidant,  one  Mar 
garet  Brodie.  The  devil  mounted  the  reader's  desk, 
with  a  black  book  in  his  hand.  Isabell  renounced 
her  baptism,  and  putting  one  hand  on  the  top  of 
her  head,  and  the  other  on  the  sole  of  her  fool, 
made  over  all  between  them  to  the  arch-enemy, 
who  thereupon  baptized  her  afresh  in  his  own  name. 
Nothing  more  occurred  at  this  interview,  but  it  was 
not  long  before  a  second  took  place,  the  details  of 
which  we  must  pass  over.  Isabell  was  now  wholly 
given  up  to  the  devil,  and  she  and  her  neighbors 
were  employed  by  him  in  the  commission  of  crimes 
of  different  kinds,  up  to  murder  itself.  She  enu 
merates  those  who  constituted  her  company  or 
"  covin,"  to  use  the  technical  name ;  and,  curiously 
enough,  the  truth  of  her  confessions  is  confirmed  by 
one  at  least  of  her  supposed  accomplices.  There  is 
a  wild  and  picturesque  imagination  about  Isabell 
Gowdie's  confessions,  which  is  not  often  found  in 
such  details.  When  she  describes  the  mode  that 
was  adopted  to  take  away  the  fruit  of  the  land,  she 
rivals  the  grotesque  power  of  Callot. 

"  Before  Candlemas,"  she  says,  "  we  Avent  by  East 
Kinloss,  and  then  we  yoked  a  plewghc  of  paddokis.* 
The  divill  held  the  plcwgho,  and  John  Younge  in 
Mebestone,  our  officer  did  dry  we  the  pkvwghe. 
Paddokis  did  draw  the  plewghc  as  oxen;  quick- 
ensf  were  somes ;  $  a  riglan's  §  horn  was  a  cowter ; 

*  Frogs.       t  Twitch,  couclLgruss.        J  Traces.        §  A  ridgel  rum. 


THE    CAMPDEN   WOXDEK.  55 

and  a  piece  of  a  riglan's  horn  was  a  sok.  We  went 
two  several  times  about ;  and  all  we  of  the  covin 
went  still  up  and  downe  with  the  plewghe  praying 
to  the  devil  for  the  fruit  of  that  land,  and  that  this 
tles  and  briers  might  grow  there." 

She  visited  Fairyland,  like  Thomas  the  Rhymer. 
The  Queen  of  Faerie  was  "  brawli  clothed  in  whyte 
linens,"  and  the  King  of  Faerie  was  a  "braw  man, 
weill-favored  and  broad-faced,"  but  she  was  "  af 
frighted  by  the  elf  bulls,  which  went  up  and  downe 
thair  rowtting  and  skoylling  " ;  and  her  information 
as  to  that  terra  incognita  is  but  scanty. 

Isabel!' s  confession  occupied  four  days.  She  gives 
at  length  the  uncouth  rhymes  by  means  of  which 
tempests  were  raised,  which  enabled  her  to  fly 
through  the  air  on  storms,  to  change  her  form  for 
that  of  a  bird,  a  cat,  a  hare,  or  any  other  animal  at 
will.  Her  amours  with  the  devil  she  details  with 
marvelous  particularity,  and  recounts  one  by  one 
the  murders  she  had  committed  at  his  instigation, 

O 

when  she  breaks  out  into  this  passionate  exclama 
tion  :  "  Alace !  I  deserve  not  to  be  sitting  hier,  for  I 
have  done  so  manie  evill  deedis,  especially  killing  of 
men,  I  deserve  to  be  rievin  upon  irin  harrowes,  and 
worse  if  it  could  be  devisit ! "  To  the  horror  of 
"Master  Harie  Forbes,"  he  was  himself  the  subject 
of  these  terrible  incantations.  His  life  was  attempt 
ed  several  times. 

"  Margaret  Brodie  shot  at  Mr.  Harie  Forbes  at 
the  standing-staues,  but  she  missed,  and  speirit  '  if 
she  should  shoot  again  ? '  And  the  devil  said, '  N"ot ! 
for  we  Avoid  nocht  get  his  lyfe  at  that  tyme.'  We 


5G  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

intcritit  several  tymes  for  him  quhan  he  was  seik. 
Bessie  Hay,  Jean  Martin  the  maiden,  Bessie  Wilson, 
Margaret  Brodie,  Elspeth  Ncshie,  and  I  myself,  met 
in  Bessie  Wilsones  hows,  and  maid  an  bag  against 
him.  The  bag  was  maid  of  the  flesh,  guttis,  and 
gallis  of  toadis,  the  liewer  of  an  hear,  pickles  of 
corn,  and  pairingis  of  naillis  of  fingers  and  toes. 
We  steepit  all  night  among  water.  The  divill 
learned  us  to  saye  the  wordis  following  at  the  mak 
ing  of  the  bag : 

"  'He  is  lying  on  his  bedel,  and  he  is  seik  and  sair, 

Let  him  ly  intill  that  budd  monethes  two  and  dayes  thrie  mair. 

He  sal  ly  intill  his  bedd,  he  sal  be  seik  and  sair, 

He  sal  ly  intill  his  bedd  monethes  two  and  dayes  thrie  mair.' 

And  quhan  we  haid  said  thes  wordis,  we  wer  al  on 
our  kneyis,  our  hair  abowt  our  shoulderis  and  eyes, 
holding  up  our  handis  to  the  divill  that  it  might 
destroy  the  said  Mr.  Haric.  It  was  intendit  that 
we,  coming  into  his  chalmer  in  the  night-tym,  sould 
swing  it  on  him.  And  becaus  we  prevailed  not  at 
that  tym,  Bessie  Hay  undertook  and  cam  into  his 
chalmer  to  wisit  him,  being  werie  intimat  with  him, 
and  she  brought  in  of  the  bag  in  her  handis  full  of 
the  oil  thereof,  to  have  swowng  and  casten  droppis 
of  it  on  him ;  but  there  were  some  uther  worthie 
persons  with  him  at  the  tym,  by  quhich  God  pre 
vented  Bessie  Hay  that  she  gat  no  harm  don  to 
him,  but  swang  a  litl  of  it  on  the  bed  quhair  he 
lay."  * 

The  confessions  conclude  with  a  minute  account 

*  Isabell  Gowdie's  fourth  confession. 


THE    CAMPDEN   WONDEE.  57 

of  making  the  image  of  a  child  of  clay :  "  It  wanted 
110  mark  of  the  image  of  a  bairn,  eyes,  nose,  mouth, 
litle  lippes,  and  the  hands  of  it  folded  down  by  its 
sydis." 

Whilst  the  clay  which  formed  the  image  was 
kneaded,  the  devil  sat  on  a  black  "  kist,"  and  Isabell 
and  her  companions  chanted  the  following  rhyme : 

"  We  put  this  water  among  this  meall, 
For  long  dwying  and  ill  heall  ; 
We  put  it  in  intill  the  fyr, 
To  burn  them  up  both  stik  and  stour, 
That  he  burnt  with  our  will, 
As  onie  stikill  on  an  kill." 

This  image  represented  the  child  of  the  Laird  of 
Parkis,  "As  it  was  rosted  eche  other  day  at  the 
fyr,  som  tymes  on  pairt  of  it,  somtymes  another, 
the  bairn  would  be  burnt  and  rosten,  even  as  it 
was." — "  Each  day  we  wold  water  it,  and  then  rost 
and  bak  it,  and  turn  it  at  the  fyr,  each  other  day, 
till  that  bairn  died,  and  then  lay  it  up,  and  steired 
it  not  until  the  next  bairn  was  borne;  and  then 
within  half  an  yeir  efter  that  bairne  was  borne,  we 
would  take  it  out  of  the  cradle,  and  bak  it  and  rost 
it  at  the  fyr,  until  that  bairn  died  also.* 

"  All  this  and  a  great  manie  mor  terrible  things 
the  said  witnesses  and  notar  heard  the  said  Isabell 
confes,  and  most  willingly  and  penitently  speak 
furth  of  her  own  mouth." 

The  record  is  imperfect,  but  there  seems  no 
reason  to  doubt  that  Isabell  Gowdie  and  Janet 
Breadheid  suffered  at  the  stake. 

*  Confession  of  Janet  Breadheid.— See  Pitcairn's    Criminal   Trials, 
iii,  app.  vii. 


58  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

The  conviction  of  guilt  was  impressed  upon  their 
minds  us  vividly  as  it  was  upon  that  of  John  Perry, 
nor  can  we  wonder  at  the  eagerness  with  which 
Master  Ilarie  Forbes  and  his  confederates  pursued 
these  unhappy  women  to  the  death.  Sir  George 
Mackenzie  observes,  that  in  these  cases  "  the  accus 
ers  are  masters  or  neighbors  who  had  their  children 
dead,  and  are  engaged  by  grief  to  suspect  these 
poor  creatures.  I  knew"  (he  says)  "one  burnt 
because  a  lady  was  jealous  of  her  with  her  husband ; 
and  the  crime  is  so  odious  that  they  are  never 
assisted  or  defended  by  their  relations.  The  Avit-- 
nesses  and  assizes  are  afraid  that  if  they  escape  they 
will  die  for  it,  and  therefore  they  take  an  unwarrant 
able  latitude.  And  I  have  observed  that  scarce 
ever  any  who  were  accused  before  a  country  assize 
of  neighbors  did  escape  that  trial."  ^ 

We  are  past  the  age  for  belief  in  witchcraft,  but 
the  diseased  imagination  which  formerly  manifested 
itself  in  the  wild  delusions  of  poor  Isabell  Gowdie, 
now  forms  for  itself  a  creation  far  more  dangerous, 
because  its  phantoms  arc  reconcilable  with  the 
ordinary  experience  of  the  world.  Within  the  last 
two  years  the  courts  at  Westminster  were  occupied 
for  many  days  in  the  investigation  of  a  charge  of  a 
most  serious  nature,  brought  against  a  physician  by 
the  husbaiid  of  one  of  his  patients.f  The  lady  kept 
a  journal,  in  which  she  noted  down  with  the  utmost 
minuteness  the  rise,  progress,  and  entire  history  of 

*  Mackenzie's  Works,  ii,  87. 

t  Robinson  v.  llobinson  and  Lane ;  Divorce  Court,  June  11,  1858,  to 
March  2,  1859.— See  Times,  July  6,  1858. 


THE    CAMPDEX   WOXDER.  59 

an  overwhelming  and  passionate  attachment  be 
tween  herself  and  the  doctor.  This  journal  came  to 
the  husband's  hands.  The  explosion  may  be  imag 
ined.  The  husband  very  naturally  instituted  pro 
ceedings  for  a  divorce.  When  the  trial  came  on, 
the  journal,  consisting  of  three  bulky  volumes,  and 
extending  over  a  period  of  five  years,  was  produced. 
Nothing  could  be  clearer,  more  explicit,  or  more 
astounding,  than  the  disclosures  it  contained.  But 
there  was  not  a  particle  of  confirmatory  evidence  to 
support  any  one  of  them ;  and  it  was  established 
beyond  a  doubt  that  the  lady,  though  apparently 
conducting  herself  like  other  people,  and  giving  no 
external  sign  of  disordered  intellect,  was  upon  this 
particular  subject  altogether  insane ;  that  the  doctor 
was  innocent  throughout  the  affair,  and  wholly  un 
conscious  that  he  had  for  years  been  made  the  hero 
of  a  romance  rivaling  the  adventures  of  Faublas. 
This  disease  sometimes  assumes  a  form  even  more 
dangerous  than  that  of  self-accusation.  A  crime  is 
committed,  or  supposed  to  have  been  committed. 
The  details  of  an  inquiry  of  an  exciting  nature  fill 
the  columns  of  the  press.  Presently  the  imagina 
tion  fastens  upon  the  circumstances  as  they  are 
gradually  revealed,  and  the  unfortunate  patient 
fancies  that  he  has  been  a  witness  of  the  whole 
transaction,  comes  forward  believing  that  he  is  dis 
charging  an  imperative  duty,  and  with  all  the  clear 
ness,  coolness,  and  certainty  which  characterize 
truth,  depones  to  the  creation  of  his  heated  brain. 
A  case  of  this  kind  occurred  at  the  winter  assizes 
at  Stafford,  in  the  year  1857. 


60  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

The  body  of  a  girl  named  Elizabeth  Hopley  was 
found  in  the  canal  at  Bradley,  early  on  the  morning 
of  the  30th  of  April.  There  were  no  marks  of  vio 
lence.  About  ten  o'clock  on  the  previous  evening 
she  had  left  the  house  of  her  aunt  for  the  purpose 
of  going  to  the  place  where  a  young  man,  to  whom 
she  was  engaged  to  be  married,  was  in  the  habit  of 
working.  Her  road  led  past  the  place  where  her 
body  was  found,  and  it  was  supposed  that,  dazzled 
by  the  light  of  some  coke-fires,  she  had  missed  her 
way,  and  fallen  over  the  low  wall  by  which  the  canal 
was,  at  that  spot,  very  insufficiently  guarded.  About 
three  weeks,  however,  after  the  girl's  death,  a  neigh 
bor,  of  the  name  of  Samuel  Wall,  declared  that 
Elizabeth  Hopley  had  been  murdered,  and  that  he 
had  been  present  when  the  crime  was  committed. 
A  day  or  two  afterwards  he  was  summoned  before 
the  magistrates,  when  he  told  the  following  story. 
lie  said  that  on  the  night  of  the  29th  of  April  he 
was  on  duty  as  a  private  watchmen  on  some  prem 
ises  near  a  bridge  which  crossed  the  railway ;  that 
lie  saw  two  persons,  a  man  and  a  woman,  on  the 
bridge,  and  heard  a  woman's  voice  say,  "Philip, 
don't  kill  me !  You  said  you  would  kill  me  before  !  " 
That  the  man  then  raised  his  hand  and  struck  the 
woman  a  violent  blow  on  the  head,  which  knocked 
her  down.  Upon  this  he  went  up,  and  instantly 
recognized  the  man  as  one  Philip  Clare,  whom  lie 
well  knew.  He  exclaimed,  "  Philip,  you'll  have  to 
suffer  for  this ! "  Clare  turned  round  and  replied, 
"  If  you  speak,  I'll  serve  you  the  same  !  "  Clare 
then  lifted  the  young  woman  up  from  the  ground, 


THE    CAMPDEX 


and,  followed  by  Wall,  carried  her  over  the  railway 
bridge,  and  down  a  road  past  some  cottages,  until 
he  came  to  the  canal.  Here  he  paused,  and  turning 
round  again  upon  Wall,  said,  "  Xow,  if  you  speak 
or  tell  any  one,  I  will  kill  you.  I  will  serve  you 
the  same  way  as  I  served  her,  and  set  some  one  else 
to  watch  instead."  He  then,  in  Wall's  presence, 
plunged  the  woman,  who  still  seemed  helpless  and 
insensible,  into  the  canal,  close  to  the  spot  where, 
the  next  morning,  her  body  was  discovered. 

Wall  fixed  the  time  when  this  occurred  as  twenty 
minutes  after  midnight ;  and  it  must  be  remarked 
that  he  was  employed  as  a  watchman,  and  was  like 
ly  to  be  habitually  observant  of  the  time. 

He  said  that  he  returned  to  his  employer's  prem 
ises,  being  prevented  by  his  fear  of  Clare  from  giv 
ing  any  alarm ;  that  after  about  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  had  elapsed,  Clare  came  to  him  and  renewed 
his  threats,  when,  terrified  by  the  apprehension  of 
immediate  violence,  he  locked  himself  up  in  the 
engine-house  until  daylight. 

Upon  this  statement,  Clare  was  taken  into  cus 
tody,  and  committed  for  trial.  At  his  trial  Wall 
repeated  the  story  he  had  told  the  magistrates. 
There  was  a  total  absence  of  confirmation.  It  was 
met  by  proof  that  the  body  showed  no  sign  of  hav 
ing  received  any  blow  of  the  kind  described  by 
Wall ;  that  there  had  been  men  at  work  pumping 
water  during  the  whole  night  in  the  immediate 
neighborhood,  who  must,  in  all  probability,  have 
heard  something,  had  the  affair  taken  place  as  Wall 
described.  It  was  shown,  moreover,  that  from  half- 

PTZZLES— 6. 


62  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

past  six  nntil  about  eleven  P.  M.,  Clare  had  been  in 
a  public-house  at  Bilston,  which  he  left,  in  company 
with  four  other  men,  one  of  whom  accompanied 
him  till  within  half  a  mile  of  his  own  house.  An 
other  witness,  a  neighbor,  proved  that  about  twelve 
o'clock  he  met  Clare,  and  entered  into  conversation 
with  him  near  his  own  door ;  that  they  remained 
together  until  two  o'clock  next  morning.  There 
could  not  be  the  slightest  doubt  of  Clare's  inno 
cence,  and  the  jury,  of  course,  at  once  acquitted 
him.  Nor  could  there  be  any  doubt  that  Wall  be 
lieved  the  story  told.  The  minuteness,  the  particu 
larity,  the  graphic  details,  the  conversation,  all  bear 
the  stamp  of  that  subjective  truth,  which  our  lan 
guage  has  no  word  to  distinguish  from  objective 
truth.  It  is  curious  to  observe  in  how  many  res 
pects  this  case  resembles  that  of  John  Perry.  In 
both  there  was  a  period  of  incubation,  during  which 
the  mind  brooded  in  silence  over  its  creations ;  in 
both  the  accuser  professed  to  have  been  present,  and 
thus  a  participant,  though  in  different  degrees,  in 
the  crime.  In  both  the  conversations  with  the  sup 
posed  murderer  are  minutely  detailed ;  in  both  the 
tale  is  solemnly  repeated,  consistently,  and  without 
variation,  at  considerable  intervals  of  time,  and  sub 
ject  to  the  test  of  judicial  examination. 

A  case  even  more  remarkable  occurred  shortly 
before  the  one  we  have  just  referred  to. 

A  gentleman  of  high  social  position  instituted  pro 
ceedings  against  his  wife  with  the  view  of  obtaining 
a  divorce. 

The  innocence  of  the  lady  was  strongly  asserted 


THE    CAMPDEN   WONDER.  63 

and  firmly  believed.  Counter-charges  of  conspiracy 
and  perjury  were  brought  against  the  husband  and  his 
witnesses.  The  lady  herself  was  in  a  state  of  dis 
ordered  intellect,  produced,  as  was  asserted,  by  the 
conduct  of  the  husband,  which  precluded  her  from 
taking  any  part,  or  affording  any  assistance  towards 
her  own  defense,  which,  however,  was  vigorously 
maintained  by  friends  who  were  firmly  convinced 
that  she  was  wholly  innocent.  The  inquiry  lasted 
for  nearly  four  years,  and  at  length  reached  the 
House  of  Lords,  where  the  case  on  behalf  of  the 
husband  had  just  terminated  when  Parliament  rose 
for  the  Easter  recess. 

On  the  House  reassembling,  there  appeared  at  the 
bar  an  elderly  and  respectable-looking  clergyman, 
who,  to  the  surprise  of  every  one,  deposed  upon 
oath  that  six  or  seven  years  before — namely,  in  the 
month  of  May  or  June,  in  the  year  1849  or  '50,  he 
could  not  say  which — he  had  been  an  actual  eye 
witness  of  the  guilt  of  the  lady.  He  swore  that  he 
had  never  mentioned  the  circumstance  during  the 
six  or  seven  years  that  had  elapsed  but  to  one  per 
son,  and  that  person  was  dead.  He  had  permitted 
his  daughters  and  his  sister  to  continue  on  terms  of 
intimacy  with  the  lady  whom  he  accused.  He 
was  unable  to  fix  the  time  of  the  occurrence,  even 
as  to  the  year  in  which  it  took  place,  or  to  state  who 
was  the  partner  in  her  guilt.  Every  avenue  of  con 
tradiction  was  thus  cut  off,  and  the  story  was  left  to 
stand  or  fall,  according  as  the  respectable  character 
and  social  position  of  the  witness,  and  the  apparent 
conviction  with  which  he  told  his  story,  or  the  im- 


64  JUDICIAL   PUZZLES. 

probable  nature  of  that  story  itself,  coupled  with  the 
fact  that  during  a  most  searching  investigation,  car 
ried  on  by  adverse  parties  with  the  utmost  eager 
ness  for  a  period  of  between  four  and  five  years,  no 
circumstance  which  in  the  slightest  degree  corrobo 
rated  that  story  had  ever  come  to  light,  might  be 
considered  to  be  entitled  to  the  greater  weight.  It 
was  not  long,  however,  before  the  difficulty  was 
solved.  Within  a  few  months,  the  witness  who  had 
given  this  extraordinary  history  gave  himself  up  to 
justice,  declaring  with  every  expression  of  contri 
tion  that  he  had  been  guilty  of  forging  certain  bills 
of  exchange,  that  they  had  nearly  reached  maturity, 
that  he  had  no  means  of  providing  for  them,  that  de 
tection  was  inevitable,  and  that  he  wished  to  antici 
pate  the  blow,  and  make  such  reparation  as  was  in 
his  power  by  a  full  acknowledgment  of  his  guilt. 
Upon  investigation,  it  turned  out  that  there  was  not 
the  slightest  foundation  for  this  story ;  no  forgery 
had  been  committed — no  such  bills  of  exchange  had 
ever  been  in  existence.  His  delusion  as  to  his  own 
guilt  was  as  complete  as  his  delusion  as  to  that  of 
the  lady  against  whom  he  had  given  evidence,  over 
whose  strange  history  he  had  no  doubt  brooded  for 
years,  until  the  thick-coming  fancies  of  his  brain  as 
sumed  the  form  and  appearance  of  substantive 
creations. 

Doctor  Southwood  Smith,  in  his  "  Lcctiires  on 
Forensic  Medicine,"  after  observing  how  common 
false  sclf-inculpativc  evidence  is,  gives  some  re 
markable  instances  in  Avhich  it  has  occurred.  Of 
these  the  following  is  perhaps  the  most  striking : 


THE    CAMPDEX   WOXDEK.  65 

"In  the  war  of  the  French  Revolution  the  Iler- 
mione  frigate  was  commanded  by  Captain  Pigot,  a 
harsh  man  and  a  severe  commander.  His  crew  mu 
tinied,  and  carried  the  ship  into  an  enemy's  port, 
having  murdered  the  captain  and  many  of  the  offi 
cers  under  circumstances  of  extreme  barbarity. 
One  midshipman  escaped,  by  whom  many  of  the 
criminals,  who  were  afterwards  taken  and  delivered 
over  to  justice  one  by  one,  were  identified.  Mr. 
Finlaison,  the  Government  actuary,  who  at  that 
time  held  an  official  situation  at  the  Admiralty, 
states :  '  In  my  own  experience  I  have  known,  on 
separate  occasions,  more  than  six  sailors  who  volun 
tarily  confessed  to  having  struck  the  first  blow  at 
Captain  Pigot.  These  men  detailed  all  the  horrid 
circumstances  of  the  mutiny  with  extreme  minute 
ness  and  perfect  accuracy ;  nevertheless,  not  one  of 
them  had  ever  been  in  the  ship,  nor  had  so  much 
as  seen  Captain  Pigot  in  their  lives.  They  had 
obtained,  by  tradition,  from  their  messmates,  the 
particulars  of  the  story.  When  long  on  a  foreign 
station,  hungering  and  thirsting  for  home,  their 
minds  became  enfeebled;  at  length  they  actually 
believed  themselves  guilty  of  the  crime  over  which 
they  had  so  long  brooded,  and  submitted  Avith  a 
gloomy  pleasure  to  being  sent  to  England  in  irons 
for  judgment.  At  the  Admiralty  we  were  always 
able  to  detect  and  establish  their  innocence,  in  defi 
ance  of  their  own  solemn  asseverations.' "  * 

We  are  exhausting  our  space,  though  not  the  num 
ber  of  instances  of  a  similar  description  which  lie 

*  London  Medical  Gazette,  Jan.,  1838. 


66  JUDICIAL   PUZZLES- 

before  us,   and   must   content   ourselves  with  one 
more. 

A  magistrate  of  one  of  the  northern  counties  of 
England,  well  known  for  his  active  benevolence, 
during  the  discharge  of  his  duty  as  one  of  the  visit 
ing  justices  of  the  County  Lunatic  Asylum,  entered 
into  conversation  with  one  of  the  patients,  and  was 
much  struck  with  his  rational  demeanor  and  sensi 
ble  remarks.  The  man  expressed  himself  grateful 
for  the  kindness  with  which  lie  was  treated,  and 
said  that  he  was  well  aware  that  it  was  necessary 
that  he  should  be  under  restraint ;  that  although  he 
was  perfectly  well  at  that  time,  he  knew  that  he  was 
at  any  moment  liable  to  a  return  of  the  insanity, 
during  an  attack  of  which  he  had  some  years  before 
murdered  his  wife ;  arid  that  it  would  be  unsafe  to 
permit  him  to  go  at  large.  He  then  expressed  the 
deepest  contrition  for  his  crime ;  and  after  some 
further  conversation  the  magistrate  left  him,  not 
doubting  the  truth  of  his  story.  Referring  to  the 
case  in  conversation  with  the  master  of  the  asylum, 
he  expressed  much  interest,  and  referred  to  the 
patient  as  "  that  unhappy  criminal  lunatic  who  had 
murdered  his  wife  ";  when  to  his  astonishment,  he 
was  informed  that  the  wife  was  alive  and  well,  and 
had  been  to  visit  her  husband  only  the  day  before  ! 

We  cannot  conclude  our  observations  on  this 
interesting  subject  better  than  in  the  words  of  the 
old  jurist  Heincccius :  *  "  Confession  is  sometimes 
the  voice  of  conscience.  Experience,  however, 
teaches  us  that  it  is  frequently  far  otherwise.  There 

*  Exer.  18,  §  G. 


THE    CAMPDEN   WONDEB.  67 

sometimes  lurks,  under  the  shadow  of  an  apparent 
tranquillity,  an  insanity  which  impels  men  readily  to 
accuse  themselves  of  all  kinds  of  iniquity.  Some, 
deluded  by  their  imaginations,  suspect  themselves 
of  crimes  which  they  have  never  committed.  A 
melancholy  temperament,  the  tcedium  vitce,  and  an 
unaccountable  propensity  to  their  own  destruction, 
urges  some  to  the  most  false  confessions;  whilst 
they  were  extracted  from  others  by  the  dread  of 
torture,  or  the  tedious  misery  of  the  dungeon.  So 
far  is  it  from  being  the  fact  that  all  confessions  are 
to  be  attributed  to  the  stings  of  conscience,  that  it 
has  been  well  said  by  Calphurnius  Flaccus,  '  Even  a 
voluntary  confession  is  to  be  regarded  with  sus 
picion  ';  and  by  Quintilian,  '  a  suspicion  of  insanity 
is  inherent  in  the  nature  of  all  confessions.' " 


in. 

THE  AXXESLEY  CASE. 

When  the  captain  of  the  G-reat  Britain  ran  that 
unfortunate  vessel  on  to  the  sands  of  Dundrum  Bay, 
it  was  urged  in  his  excuse  that  so  many  marvelous 
tales  are  told  about  Ireland,  that  he  was  justified 
in  concluding  that  no  obstacle  lay  in  his  road  from 
the  Isle  of  Man  to  New  York ;  that  Dublin  was  as 
fabulous  as  Blef uscu ;  and  that  the  Mourne  mount 
ains  had  no  more  real  existence  than  the  loadstone 
hill  which  proved  fatal  to  the  ship  of  Sindbad.  The 
story  we  are  about  to  tell  might  almost  justify  such 
incredulity;  yet  it  is  only  one  of  many  equally 
strange  and  equally  well  authenticated. 

In  the  year  1706,  Arthur  Lord  Althain,  a  needy 
and  dissolute  Irish  peer,  married  Mary  Sheffield,  an 
illegitimate  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham. 
They  lived  together  for  three  years ;  but  in  1709 
Lord  Althani  went  to  Ireland,  leaving  his  wife  in 
England,  where  she  remained  until  1713,  when  she 
joined  her  husband  in  Dublin.  From  that  tune  un 
til  1716  they  resided  together,  principally  at  Dun- 
maine,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Ross,  in  the  county  of 
Wexford.  In  1716  they  separated,  under  circum 
stances  which  we  shall  presently  have  occasion  to 
notice  more  minutely,  and  never  met  again.  In  1717 
Lord  Altham  died,  and  was  succeeded  in  his  title 

[69] 


70  JUDICIAL   PUZZLES. 

and  estates  by  his  brother,  Richard  Anncsley,  who 
remained  in  undisturbed  possession  of  both  for  a  per 
iod  of  thirteen  years.  Lady  Altham  survived  her 
husband  for  about  two  years,  which  were  passed  in 
sickness  and  poverty,  but  docs  not  appear  ever  to 
have  taken  any  step  to  prevent  Richard  Annesley'te 
assumption  of  the  character  of  heir  to  her  husband, 
to  Avhich,  of  course,  he  would  have  had  no  title  if  she 
had  a  son  living  at  the  time  of  Lord  Altham's  death. 
In  the  year  1739,  however,  a  young  man  of  about 
four-and-twenty  years  of  age  made  his  appearance 
in  the  fleet  which,  under  the  command  of  Admiral 
Vernon,  was  lying  off  Porto-Bello.  lie  called  him 
self  James  Annesley,  stated  that  lie  was  a  son  of 
Lord  Altham,  that  he  had  been  educated  and  ac 
knowledged  as  such  son  until  he  was  nine  or  ten 
years  of  age;  that  upon  the  death  of  his  father  lie 
had  been  kidnapped  and  sold  for  a  slave  in  America ; 
that  lie  had  passed  thirteen  years  in  servitude,  and 
at  last  (after  a  series  of  romantic  and  not  very  credi 
ble  adventures,  which  have  nothing  to  do  with  our 
present  subject)  had  effected  his  escape.  Admiral 
Vernon  furnished  him  with  the  means  of  proceed 
ing  to  England,  where  he  arrived  shortly  afterwards. 
On  his  arrival  in  England  he  went  to  lodge  at 
Staincs,  in  the  neighborhood,  of  Windsor,  and  here 
a  circumstance  occurred  which  had  no  doubt  a  con 
siderable  effect  on  the  subsequent  proceedings.  One 
of  his  associates,  a  man  of  the  name  of  Redding,  was 
gamekeeper  to  Sir  John  Dolbin,  the  lord  of  the 
manor.  One  morning  James  Anncsley  was  out.with 
a  gun  shooting  small  birds,  when  Redding  called 


THE    AXNESLEY    CASE.  71 

him  to  assist  in  capturing  a  net  with  which  a  man 
of  the  name  of  Egglestone  was  fishing  in  the  river ; 
Annesley's  gun  unfortunately  went  off  in  the  scuffle, 
and  mortally  wounded  Egglestone.  There  could  be 
little  doubt  that  the  discharge  of  the  gun  was  pure 
ly  accidental;  but  Lord  Anglesea  (for  Richard, 
Lord  Altham,  had  in  the  meantime  succeded  to  that 
title  also)  seized  the  opportunity  to  destroy,  as  he 
thought,  the  claimant  of  his  title  and  estates.  He 
instituted  a  prosecution  against  James  Annesley  for 
murder ;  he  was  prodigal  of  money  and  promises 
amongst  the  witnesses;  and  he  declared  that  he 
would  willingly  give  ten  thousand  pounds  to  get 
him  hanged.  The  jury  at  the  Old  Bailey  acquitted 
Annesley,  and  Lord  Anglesea's  machinations  re 
coiled  upon  himself ;  for  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 
they  greatly  influenced  both  the  court  and  jury 
against  him  on  the  subsequent  trial. 

On  the  llth  of  November,  1743,  the  trial  for  the 
recovery  of  the  estates  came  on  in  the  Court  of  Ex 
chequer  in  Dublin.  It  lasted  fifteeen  days,  and 
above  ninety  witnesses  were  examined.  The  issue 
between  the  parties  was  of  the  simplest  and  boldest 
character.  On  the  one  hand,  it  was  asserted  that, 
in  the  spring  of  the  year  1715,  Lady  Altham  had 
been  delivered  at  Dunmaine  of  a  son  and  heir ;  that 
all  the  customary  solemnities  and  rejoicings  had 
taken  place ;  that  the  child  was  uniformly  acknowl 
edged  and  treated  both  by  Lord  and  Lady  Altham 
as  their  son ;  that  he  was  shown  and  spoken  of  as 
such  to  visitors  and  friends ;  that  when  the  separa 
tion  between  his  parents  took  place,  the  mother 


72  JUDICIAL   PUZZLES. 

passionately  entreated  that  she  might  be  permitted 
to  take  the  child  with  her,  which  the  father  refused, 
keeping  the  boy  and  educating  him  as  the  heir  to 
his  title  and  estates.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was 
denied  that  Lady  Altham  ever  had  a  child  at  all. 
It  was  asserted  that  the  very  ground  of  the  separa 
tion  between  herself  and  her  husband  was  the  dis 
comfort  and  disappointment  occasioned  by  her 
bearing  no  heir ;  that  it  was  known  to  every  relation 
and  visitor,  to  every  servant  in  the  house,  that  Lady 
Altham  never  had  a  child ;  that  the  servant  who 
had  attended  her  from  her  arrival  in  Dublin  to  the 
hour  of  her  death,  who  had  dressed  and  undressed 
her  every  morning  and  evening,  and  had  never  been 
absent  for  more  than  one  single  week  during  the 
whole  of  that  period,  was  living,  and  would  prove, 
not  only  that  no  child  ever  was  born,  but  that  there 
never  was  the  slightest  chance  or  probability  that 
Lady  Altham  would  have  a  child.  It  is  impossible 
to  conceive  a  simpler  issue,  or  one  which  might  be 
supposed  to  be  easier  for  conclusive  proof  one  way 
or  the  other ;  yet  two  juries  came  to  diametrically 
opposite  conclusions,  and  so  positive  is  the  testi 
mony  on  each  side,  that  it  seems  even  now,  after 
carefully  reading  the  contradictory  evidence  which 
is  preserved  in  upwards  of  five  hundred  columns  of 
the  State  Trials,  to  be  impossible  to  arrive  at  any 
satisfactory  result. 

It  is  to  be  observed  that  the  question  raised  by 
this  issue  was  not  one  of  personation  or  disputed 
identity.  If  Lady  Altham  ever  had  a  son,  it  was 
virtually  admitted  that  James  Annesley  was  that 


THE    A3TNT3SLEY    CASE.  73 

son.  Nor  was  the  case  one  of  concealed  or  doubt 
ful  marriage,  or  obscure  birth,  such  as  have  fre 
quently  occupied  the  courts.  From  the  arrival  of 
Lady  Altham  in  Ireland  until  her  separation  from 
her  husband,  a  period  of  about  three  years,  they  re 
sided  publicly  together,  kept  a  large  establishment 
of  servants,  and  visited  and  associated  with  persons 
of  the  most  various  rank  and  position  in  the  neigh 
borhood.  It  seems  incredible  that  any  dispute 
should  ever  have  arisen  upon  a  point  so  easy  of 
proof  as  whether  persons  of  their  rank,  and  so  cir 
cumstanced,  had  or  had  not  a  child ;  and  as  we  read 
the  evidence  adduced,  the  testimony  on  the  one  side 
seems  absolutely  conclusive,  until  it  is  met  by  con 
tradictory  evidence,  to  all  appearance  equally  con 
clusive,  on  the  other. 

The  household  at  Dunmaine  was  large  and  disor 
derly,  consisting  of  sixteen  or  seventeen  servants, 
from  the  English  housekeeper,  who  was  "  sent  over 
by  my  lady,"  and  who  rejoiced  in  the  appropriate 
name  of  "  Mrs.  Settright,"  down  to  "  Smutty,  the 
dog-boy,  who  was  very  ugly."  Poor  Smutty !  im 
mortalized  by  his  ugliness.  He  shows  his  ill-favored 
countenance  for  a  moment,  and  disappears  into 
utter  obscurity.  Lord  Altham  had  about  him,  also, 
a  number  of  hangers-on  and  humble  companions ; 
but,  besides  these,  he  associated  with  gentlemen  of 
his  own  rank  and  position ;  and  one  of  the  first  wit 
nesses  called  on  behalf  of  the  claimant,  was  a  Major 
Richard  Fitzgerald. 

The  Major  deposed  that  in  the  year  1715  he  was 
in  the  town  of  Ross,  having  had  occasion  to  go 

PUZZLES— -7. 


74  JUDICIAL    PFZZLES. 

there  on  account  of  some  business  arising  from  the 
death  of  his  uncle,  a  Mr.  Pigott,  who  lived  in  the 
county  of  Wexford.  In  Ross  he  met  Lord  Altham, 
who  invited  him  to  dinner.  The  Major  excused 
himself,  as  he  was  engaged  to  dine  with  some 
brother  officers ;  "  but  Lord  Altham  said  deponent 
must  dine  with  him,  and  come  to  drink  some  groan 
ing  drink,  for  that  his  wife  was  in  labor.  Deponent 
told  him  that  was  a  reason  he  ought  not  to  go ;  but 
Lord  Altham  would  not  take  an  excuse,  and  sent 
the  deponent  word  the  next  day  to  Ross,  that  his 
wife  was  brought  to  bed  of  a  son;  and  the  deponent 
went  to  Dunmaine  and  dined  there,  and  had  some 
discourse  about  the  child,  and  Lord  Altham  swore 
that  the  deponent  should  see  his  son,  and  accord 
ingly  the  nurse  brought  the  child  to  deponent,  and 
deponent  kissed  the  child,  and  gave  half  a  guinea 
to  the  nurse ;  and  some  of  the  company  toasted  the 
heir-apparent  to  Lord  Anglesea  at  dinner.  That 
this  was  the  day  after  the  child  was  born  :  and  de 
ponent  says  that  he  left  the  country  the  next  day, 
and  went  to  the  county  of  Waterford,  to  his  own 
house  at  Prospect  Hall.  Says  deponent  saw  the 
woman  to  whom  he  gave  the  half-guinea,  this  day 
of  his  examination ;  that  he  remembers  her  well, 
because  he  took  notice  of  her  when  he  gave  her  the 
half-guinea,  that  she  was  very  handsome ;  that  he 
did  not  stay  at  Dunmaine  that  night,  but  came  to 
Ross  at  nightfall,  and  was  attacked  in  the  road  by 
robbers;  that  he  crossed  the  ferry  on  his  return 
home  j  remembers  that  Lord  Altham  was  in  high 


THE    AXXESLEY    CASE.  /O 

spirits  with  the  thoughts  of  having  a  son  and  heir."  * 
It  seems  impossible  to  add  to  the  force  of  this 
testimony.  N"o  attempt  was  made  to  impeach  the 
character  or  credibility  of  the  witness.  Everything 
concurred  to  fix  the  time  and  circumstances  in  his 
mind :  mistake  appears .  impossible ;  and  no  motive 
is  assignable  for  willful  falsehood.  Nor  is  the  evi 
dence  given  by  the  next  witness  less  conclusive.  John 
Turner  was  seneschal  to  Lord  Anglesea.  He  had 
lived  at  Dunmaine  for  ten  years;  he  had  visited 
Lord  Altham;  and  soon  after  his  own  marriage, 
which  took  place  in  December,  1714,  he  observed 
appearance  of  pregnancy  in  Lady  Altham.  He 
says  that  the  next  time  he  saw  Lady  Altham  she 
told  him  she  had  a  son ;  that  he  afterwards  saw  the 
boy,  and  had  him  in  his  arms  at  Dunmaine  when  he 
was  about  a  year  and  half  old ;  that  Lady  Altham 
led  the  child  across  the  parlor,  and  Lord  Altham 
kissed  him  and  called  him  "  Jemmy  "  ;  that  he  saw 
the  child  subsequently  at  Ross,  and  afterwards  at 
Kinnay  and  Carrickduff,  after  the  separation  be 
tween  Lord  and  Lady  Altham,  when  he  was  treated 
by  his  father  in  all  respects  as  his  legitimate  son ; 
that  in  the  year  1722,  meeting  Lord  Altham  at  a 
tavern  in  Dublin,  the  boy  was  sent  for,  and  Lord 
Altham  said  to  deponent,  "  You  were  seneschal  to 
Earl  Arthur  and  Earl  John,  and  you  may  be  senes 
chal  to  the  child."  f 

During  the  eight-and-twenty  years  that  had  elaps 
ed  between  the  birth  of  the  child  in  1715  and  the 
trial  in  1743,  it  was  to  be  expected  that  many  of 

*  State  Trials,  xvii,  1153.  t  Ibid,  xvii,  1151. 


76  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

those  whose  evidence  would  have  been  most  valu 
able  should  have  died ;  amongst  them  were  those 
who  stood  sponsors  for  the  child  at  its  baptism; 
Mr.  Colclough,  Mr.  Cliff,  and  Mrs.  Pigott,  members 
of  families  still  holding  high  positions  in  the  county 
of  Wexford;  but  the  fact  of  the  christening,  the 
rejoicings  that  took  place,  the  bonfires  and  festiv 
ities,  were  proved  by  servants  who  lived  in  the  house 
at  the  time,  and  proved  repeatedly  and  consistently. 
It  is  impossible  within  the  narrow  limits  of  an 
article  to  give  even  an  outline  of  the  evidence  of 
the  fifty  witnesses  who  were  called  to  substantiate 
the  claimant's  case.  It  would  seem  almost  needless 
to  strengthen  the  evidence  of  Major  Fitzgerald  and 
John  Turner.  Every  conceivable  confirmation, 
however,  was  given.  Friends  of  Lord  Altham 
swore  to  conversations  with  him,  in  which  he  had 
spoken  in  the  most  open  manner  of  his  son,  and  of 
the  disappointment  of  his  brother's  expectations  of 
being  his  heir.  Witnesses  were  produced  who  had 
been  present  and  assisting  at  the  birth  of  the  child ; 
and  it  is  very  remarkable  that,  although  these  wit 
nesses  were  drawn  from  every  rank  of  life,  no 
successful  attempt  was  made  to  impeach  the  credi 
bility  of  any  of  them,  nor  was  any  inconsistency  to 
be  discovered  in  their  testimony  further  than  might 
be  satisfactorily  accounted  for  by  the  long  period 
that  had  elapsed  between  the  events  to  which  they 
spoke  and  the  time  when  they  gave  their  evidence. 
We  now  come,  however,  to  the  most  remarkable 
conflict  of  testimony  which  occurs  in  the  Avhole 
case.  A  woman  of  the  name  of  Joan  Laff  an  was 


THE    ANXESLEY    CASE.  77 

called.  She  deposed  that  she  entered  Lord 
Altham's  service  m  1715;  that  she  was  em 
ployed  as  nurse-maid  to  attend  on  the  child  as 
soon  as  he  came  from  the  wet-nurse ;  that  he  was 
at  that  time  three  or  four  months  old,  and  was  in 
her  charge  for  about  a  year  and  a  half ;  that  he  was 
treated  in  all  respects  as  their  child  by  both  Lord 
and  Lady  Altham,  who  showed  great  fondness  for 
him,  and  into  whose  bedroom  she  was  in  the  habit 
of  bringing  the  child  in  the  morning. 

She  then  gave  an  account  of  the  separation  be 
tween  Lord  and  Lady  Altham.  "It  was,"  she  said, 
"  on  account  of  Tom  Palliser."  "  My  lord  had  laid 
a  plot  against  him,  and  on  one  Sunday  morning 
pretended  to  my  lady  that  he  was  obliged  to  go  out 
to  dinner.  That  Mr.  Palliser  breakfasted  with  my 
lord,  and  they  had  a  bottle  of  mulled  wine  for 
breakfast.  As  soon  as  my  lord  was  gone  out,  Mr. 
Palliser  went  into  my  lady's  room,  and  the  plot 
having  been  laid  before,  a  signal  was  made  that 
brought  my  lord  back ;  that  my  lord  ran  up  with 
his  sword,  and  had  him  brought  out  of  the  room, 
and  the  groom  came  to  Palliser  and  said  to  him,  '  Is 
this  the  way  you  keep  my  lady  company  ? '  and  took 
out  a  case-knife  in  order  to  cut  his  nose,  but  he 
was  ordered  only  to  cut  his  ear.  That  deponent 
was  standing  by  in  the  room,  and  she  had  the  child 
in  her  hand,  and  he  showed  her  the  blood  out  of 
Palliser's  ear ;  it  was  the  soft  part  of  the  ear  that 
was  cut,  and  the  child poitried  at  the  blood  that  came 
out  of  the  ear" *  The  same  witness  deposed  that 

*  State  Trials,  xvii,  1280. 


78  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

"  she  was  present  when  my  lord  and  lady  parted ; 
that  she  saAv  my  lady  at  the  door  with  the  child  in 
her  arms  ;  that  my  lord  came  out  of  the  house  in  a 
great  rage,  and  asked  where  his  child  was,  and  upon 
being  told  that  he  was  with  his  mother,  he  ran  up 
to  her  and  snatched  the  child  out  of  her  arms ;  that 
my  lady  "begged  very  hard  she  might  take  the  child 
along  with  her,  but  my  lord  swore  he  would  not  part 
with  the  child  upon  any  consideration  ;  that  my 
lady,  finding  she  could  not  prevail,  burst  out  a 
crying,  and  begged  that  she  might  at  least  give  the 
child  one  parting  kiss ;  that  my  lord  with  some  dif 
ficulty  consented,  and  my  lady  drove  away  to 
Ross."  * 

Such  is  Joan  Laffan's  story,  and  we  must  keep  in 
mind  that  at  a  subsequent  period  it  was  confirmed 
by  another  witness ;  f  but  in  the  meantime,  let  us 
turn  to  Palliscr's  account  of  the  same  transaction. 

He  stated  that  when  he  was  very  young  he  spent 
much  of  his  time  at  Dunmaine,  which  was  within 
about  three  miles  of  his  father's  residence,  and  used 
to  ride  Lord  Alt-ham's  horses  hunting.  That  one 
day,  as  they  were  returning  home,  Lord  Altham  told 
him  that  he  was  determined  to  part  with  his  lady ; 
and  upon  deponent's  asking  him  his  reasons,  my 
lord  replied,  "I  find  Lord  Anglcsea  will  not  be  in 
friendship  with  me  while  I  live  with  this  woman, 
and  since  I  have  no  child  by  her  I  will  part  loitJi 
lier^  Palliscr  then  gives  an  account,  in  all  material 
circumstances,  the  same  as  Joan  Laffan's,  of  his  being 
entrapped  by  Lord  Altham  into  his  wife's  room  and 

*  State  Trials,  xvii,  1108,  1170.        tlbicl,  94. 


THE    ANNESLEY    CASE.  79 

falsely  accused  of  being  there  for  an  improper  pur 
pose  ;  he  takes  off  his  wig  and  shows  the  jury  where 
his  ear  was  cut,  solemnly  asseverates  the  innocence 
of  Lady  Altham,  and  declares  not  only  that  no 
child  was  present  upon  that  occasion,  but  that  he 
" neveq  saw  a  child  in  the  house"  Upon  this  the 
court,  "  apprehending  that  there  was  some  contradic 
tion  between  the  evidence  of  Palliser  and  that  of  Joan 
Laffan,"  as  indeed  they  t  well  might,  ordered  Laf- 
fan  to  be  recalled,  and  the  two  witnesses  to  be  con 
fronted.  Each  repeated  the  story,  each  was  equally 
clear,  distinct,  and  positive.  We  have  said  that 
Joan  Laffan's  evidence  was  subsequently  confirmed 
by  another  witness,  who  deponed  to  having  been 
present  at  the  parting  of  Lady  Altham  and  her 
child.  The  same  is.  however,  the  case  with  the  tes 
timony  of  Palliser,  which  was  confirmed  by  Mary 
Heath,  Lady  Altham's  woman,  who  went  with  her 
in  the  carriage  to  Boss,  and  who  swore,  most  posi 
tively,  that  no  such  child  ever  was  in  existence.  It 
is  to  be  observed  that  Palliser  and  Laffan  agree 

O 

that  the  charge  against  Lady  Altham  was  false; 
that  Laffan  attributes  the  plot  to  the  revenge  of  the 
servants,  on  account  of  some  mischievous  boyish 
tricks  which  had  been  played  upon  them  by  Palliser ; 
whilst  Palliser  himself  attributes  it  to  the  deeper 
and  more  probable  motive  of  a  determination  on  the 
part  of  Lord  Altham  to  get  rid  of  a  wife  from  whom 
he  hoped  for  no  heir — a  motive  which  we  have  seen 
give  rise  to  some  of  the  darkest  domestic  tragedies 
that  have  disgraced  humanity.  The  case,  however, 
is  beset  with  difficulties  on  all  sides ;  for  if  we  are 


80  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

to  accept  the  evidence  of  Palliscr  as  true,  the  inev 
itable  consequence  follows,  that  we  must  hold,  not 
only  Joan  Laffan,  but  Major  Fitzgerald,  Turner, 
and  many,  indeed  most,  of  the  fifty  witnesses  called 
on  behalf  of  the  claimant,  and  who  swore  positively 
to  the  existence  of  the  child,  to  have  been  deliber 
ately  perjured. 

After  the  separation  Lady  Altham  went  to  reside 
at  Ross,  and  subsequently  removed  to  Dublin.  Her 
circumstances  were  extremely  narrow,  and  her 
health  bad,  but  she  was  faithfully  attended  until 
her  death,  which  took  place  in  October,  1729,  by 
Mary  Heath.  From  her  first  arrival  in  Ireland,  in 
1713,  a  period  of  sixteen  years,  with  the  exception 
of  a  single  week,  this  woman  was  never  absent  from 
her.  While  she  resided  at  Dunmaine,  Heath  dressed 
her  every  morning  and  undressed  her  every  night ; 
and  this  witness  swore,  in  the  most  distinct  and 
positive  manner,  that  she  never  had  a  child.  It 
seems  to  be  enough  to  shake  one's  confidence  in  all 
human  testimony  to  find  evidence  so  clear,  distinct, 
and  unimpeachable,  on  each  side ;  to  be  compelled 
to  admit  that  on  one  side  or  the  other  there  must 
l>e  the  most  willful  and  deliberate  perjury,  and  yet 
to  feel  it  impossible  to  say  on  Avhich  side  perjury 
exists. 

Lord  Altham  removed,  shortly  after  his  separa 
tion  from  his  wife,  to  a  place  called  Kinnay,  in  the 
county  of  Kildare,  and  the  issue  now  assumes  a  dif 
ferent  aspect.  It  is  admitted  that  there  was  a  child 
at  Kinnay;  that  he  was  put  to  school  by  Lord 
Altham,  and  treated  as  part  of  his  family ;  but  it  is 


THE    ANNESLEY    CASE.  81 

contended  that  he  was  the  illegitimate  child  of  Lord 
Altham,  by  a  woman  of  the  name  of  Joan  Landy, 
who  had  been  a  servant  in  the  house  at  Dunmainc, 
and  that  he  had  been  brought  to  the  house  subse 
quently  to  Lady  Altham's  departure. 

In  the  earlier  part  of  the  case  the  claimant  is  met 
with  the  general  denial  —  Lady  Altham  never  had  a 
sou.  Prove  that  she  had,  and  we  will  admit  you  to 
be  that  son.  In  the  latter  part,  the  defendant  says 
in  substance  —  I  admit  that,  during  Lord  Altham's 
residence  at  Kinnay,  there  was  a  boy  who  passed  as 
his  son.  I  admit  that  you  are  that  boy  ;  but  you 
are  not  the  heir  of  Lord  Altham,  but  his  illegitimate 
son  by  Joan  Landy. 

The  whole  of  the  evidence,  therefore,  changes  its 
character  :  when  Mary  Heath  swears  that  her  mis 
tress  never  had  a  child,  whilst  Eleanor  Murphy 
swears  that  both  she  and  Heath  were  present  at  the 
birth,  one  or  the  other  must  be  perjured.  But  Lord 
Altham  might  use  expressions  as  to  "  little  Jemmy," 
which  one  witness  might  understand  as  being  a  dis 
tinct  declaration  of  his  legitimacy,  and  another 
might  think  only  conveyed  the  expression  of  his  af 
fection  for  his  natural  child. 

During  the  first  period  the  existence  of  the  child 
is  denied  ;  during  the  second  it  is  admitted  ;  and 
we  shall  now  proceed  to  follow  the  fortunes  of  the 
boy,  waiving  for  the  present  the  question  of  who 
was  his  mother. 

Lord  Altham,  after  his  separation  from  his  wife, 
formed  a  connection  with  one  Miss  Gregory,  who 
seems  to  have  exercised  an  unbounded  influence 


OF  THB 

UNTVP.T^QTT'V 


82  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

over  him.  After  a  short  time  poor"  Jemmy"  was 
turned  out  to  wander  in  rags  about  the  streets  of 
Dublin.  Here,  however,  he  met  with  friends:  a 
good-natured  student  in  Trinity  College,  of  the 
name  of  Bush,  clothed  and  fed  him,  and  employed 
him  to  run  errands,  till  his  grandfather  told  him  it 
was  not  fit  he  should  have  a  lord  for  his  servant, 
when  he  was  turned  out  upon  the  world  again.  He 
was  next  taken  charge  of  by  an  honest  butcher 
named  Purcell,  who  took  him  home  and  brought 
him  up  with  his  own  son.  Purcell  tells  the  court 
that  whilst  "  the  boy  was  in  his  house,  a  gentleman 
(who  was  then  called  Richard  Annesley,  and  is  the 
now  defendant,  the  Earl  of  Anglesea)  came  to  de 
ponent's  house  and  asked  if  one  Purcell  did  not  live 
there,  and  said  he  supposed  they  sold  liquors ;  that 
the  gentleman  had  a  gun  in  his  hand,  and  sat  down, 
and  having  called  for  a  pot  of  beer,  asked  deponent 
if  he  had  a  boy  in  his  house  called  James  Annes 
ley  ?  To  which  deponent  answered  that  there  was 
such  a  boy  in  the  house,  and  called  his  wife  and 
told  her  that  a  gentleman  wanted  to  see  the  boy ; 
says  that  the  child  was  sitting  by  the  fireside,  and 
immediately  saw  Mr.  Richard  Annesley,  though  he 
could  not  see  the  child  by  reason  of  the  situation 
where  he  sat ;  says  the  child  trembled  and  cried, 
and  was  greatly  affrighted,  saying,  '  That  is  my  un 
cle  Dick ' ;  says  that  when  the  child  was  shown  to 
the  defendant,  he  said  to  Jemmy, '  How  do  you  do  ? ' 
That  the  child  made  his  bow,  and  replied,  '  Thank 
God,  very  well.'  That  the  defendant  then  said, 
'  Don't  you  know  me  ? '  '  Yes,'  said  the  child, '  you 


THE    A2TOESLEY   CASE.  83 

are  my  uncle  Annesley.'  That  thereupon  the  de 
fendant  told  the  deponent  that  the  child  was  the 
son  of  Lord  Altham,  who  lived  at  Inchcore;  to 
which  deponent  replied,  'I  wish,  sir,  you  would 
speak  to  his  father  to  do  something  for  him.'  "  * 

The  child's  fear  of  his  uncle  was  not  without 
good  cause.  About  three  weeks  after  Lord  Al- 
tham's  death,  Richard  Annesley  came  a  second 
time  to  seek  for  the  child,  and  desired  it  should  be 
sent  to  one  Jones  in  the  market.  Purcell  suspect 
ed  mischief.  The  honest  butcher  shall  tell  his  story 
in  his  own  words  :  "  Then  deponent  took  a  cudgel 
in  one  hand,  and  the  child  in  the  other,  and  went 
to  the  said  Jones's  house,  when  he  saw  the  present 
Earl  of  Anglesea,  (who  was  then  in  mourning)  with 
a  constable  and  two  or  three  other  odd-looking  fel 
lows  attending  about  the  door ;  that  deponent  took 
off  his  hat,  and  saluted  my  lord,  which  he  did  not 
think  proper  to  return ;  but  as  soon  as  he  saw  the 
child  in  the  deponent's  hands,  he  called  to  a  fellow 
that  stood  behind  deponent's  back,  and  said  to  him, 

4  Take  up  that  thieving  son  of  a ,  (meaning  the 

child)  and  carry  him  to  the  place  I  bid  you.'  After 
some  more  language  of  the  same  kind  from  his 
lordship,  the  deponent  said,  'My  lord,  he  is  no 
thief ;  you  shall  not  take  him  from  me ;  whoever 
offers  to  take  him  from  me  I'll  knock  his  brains 
out' ;  then  deponent  took  the  child  (who  was  trem 
bling  with  fear)  and  put  him  between  his  legs."  f 

Some  high  words  passed,  but  the  butcher  was 
true  to  his  trust ;  the  lord  and  the  constable  sneak- 

*  State  Trials,  xvii.  1201.  t  Ibid,  xvii,  1202. 


84  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

eel  off,  and  the  child  was  carried  back  in  safety. 
He  was  not  long  so  fortunate.  Fear  of  a  repetition 
of  the  attempt  to  capture  him  induced  him,  very 
foolishly,  to  leave  his  friend  the  butcher.  He  then 
took  refuge  in  the  house  of  a  Mr.  Tigh ;  but  it  was: 
not  long  before  the  emissaries  of  his  uncle  dis 
covered  his  retreat,  forced  him  into  a  boat,  and  on 
board  a  ship  bound  for  Philadelphia,  which  sailed 
on  April,  1728.  His  uncle  himself  placed  him  in 
the  ship,  and  returned  to  Dublin,  thinking,  no 
doubt,  that  he  had  heard  the  last  of  him.  All  the 
details  of  this  nefarious  transaction  are  given  with 
the  utmost  minuteness,  and  without  shame  or  hesi 
tation,  by  the  very  agents  who  were  employed  in  it. 
The  share  which  Lord  Anglesca  took  in  the  abduc 
tion  of  his  brother's  child  is  hardly  disputed.  The 
contention  is  confined  to  the  point  that  the  child 
was  illegitimate.  The  villany  of  the  act  seems 
never  to  have  struck  any  of  the  parties  concerned. 
But  this  act  appears  to  us  to  turn  the  wavering 
balance  of  evidence  against  Lord  Anglesca.  If  this 
boy  were  really  the  son  of  Joan  Landy,  it  could  not 
bo  difficult  for  Lord  Anglesea  to  procure  proof  of 
that  fact  whilst  the  events  were  so  recent,  whilst 
Lady  Altham  was  still  living,  and  when  he  had 
himself,  by  common  consent,  been  admitted  to  the 
title  and  estates  of  his  brother.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  knew  that  the  boy  was  his  brother's  legit 
imate  son,  he  had  the  strongest  interest  to  remove 
him  out  of  the  way  before  any  inquiries  could  be 
made,  and  whilst  he  was  in  the  obscurity  into  which 
his  father  had  permitted  him  to  fall. 


THE    AXXESLEY    CASE.  85 

Yet  a  suspicion,  almost  equally  strong,  against 
the  truth  of  the  claimant's  case,  would  seem,  to  arise 
from  the  fact  that  John  Landy  was  living,  and  yet 
was  never  called. 

The  claimant's  story  was,  that  this  woman  was 
his  nurse;  that  her  own  child,  which  was  a  few 
months  older  than  himself,  had  died,  when  he  was 
four  or  five  years  old,  of  small-pox.  Who  could  be 
so  valuable  a  witness  for  the  claimant  as  this 
woman?  Yet  she  was  never  examined,  nor  was 
her  absence  ever  satisfactorily  accounted  for.  If  it 
is  argued  that  she  might  have  been  called  by  either 
side — that  it  was  equally  open  to  the  defendant  to 
produce  her  to  negative,  as  to  the  claimant  to  pro 
duce  her  to  support  the  story — it  may  be  answered, 
that  she  could  hardly  be  expected  to  come  forward 
to  denounce  her  own  son  as  an  impostor.  The 
non-production  of  a  witness,  who  must  have  im 
portant  evidence  in  her  power,  who  was  naturally 
the  witness  of  the  claimant,  and  whose  absence  is 
not  satisfactorily  accounted  for,  throws  the  gravest 
suspicion  upon  his  whole  case.  To  what  conclu 
sion,  then,  can  we  come?  The  jury,  after  a  con 
sultation  of  about  two  hours,  found  for  the  claimant. 
They  must  therefore  have  considered  Heath,  Pallis- 
er,  Rolph,  and  the  other  witnesses  who  swore  to 
the  non-existence  of  the  child,  to  haA^e  perjured 
themselves.  The  plaintiff  appears  to  have  been 
disposed  to  follow  up  his  victory,  for  an  indictment 
for  perjury  was  at  once  preferred  against  Mary 
Heath.  The  same  evidence  was  repeated;  Joan 
Laffan  was  again  examined.  But  the  jury  found 

PUZZLES— 8. 


80  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

her  "  Not  guilty."  They  must  therefore  have  con 
sidered  that  Laffan,  and  all  those  who  swore  to 
Lady  Altham  having  had  a  child,  had  been  guilty 
of  the  crime  of  which  they  acquitted  Heath.  James 
Anncsley  does  not  appear  to  have  taken  any  further 
steps  to  obtain  possession  of  the  estates  and  honors 
to  which  the  decision  of  the  jury  had  established 
his  title.  He  died  at  Blackheath  on  the  2d  of 
January,  1760.  His  uncle,  Richard  Anneslcy,  Lord 
Anglesea,  closed  his  career  of  profligacy  and  cruelty 
twelve  short  months  afterwards.  James  Annesley 
left  a  son,  who  died  an  infant,  and  a  daughter,  who 
married,  and  whose  children  died  young.  Thus  his 
line  became  extinct,  and  his  rights,  whatever  they 
were,  reverted  to  his  uncle.  Such  was  the  termin 
ation  of  the  "  Annesley  Case,"  memorable  for  the 
dark  mystery  in  which  it  must  forever  remain 
shrouded,  and  for  the  curious  picture  which  it 
affords  of  the  manners  and  habits  of  life  that  pre 
vailed  little  more  than  a  hundred  years  before  our 
own  day. 


IV. 
ELIZA  FENXING. 

Immediately  adjoining  to  High  Holborn,  and 
parallel  with  the  southern  side  of  Red  Lion  Square, 
runs  a  long,  narrow,  gloomy  lane,  called  Eagle 
Street.  Sickly  children  dabble  in  the  gutters,  and 
gaze  wistfully  at  the  sugar-plums  and  hard-bake, 
painfully  suggestive  of  plaster  of  Paris  and  cobbler's 
wax,  which  are  displayed  in  the  windows  of  the  bet 
ter  class  of  shops,  in  company  with  farthing  prints 
of  theatrical  characters,  pegtops,  battledores,  and 
other  objects  of  attraction  to  the  youth  of  London. 
Vendors  of  tripe  and  cats'-meat,  rag  and  bottle  deal 
ers,  marine-store  keepers ;  merchants  who  hold  out 
temptations  in  prose  and  verse,  adorned  with  apo 
plectic  numerals, -to  cooks  and  housemaids  to  pur 
loin  dripping,  kitchen  stuff,  and  old  wearing  apparel ; 
barbers  who  "shave  well  for  a  halfpenny,"  shoe- 
vampers,  fried-fish  sellers,  a  coal  and  potato  dealer, 
and  a  bird-stuffer,  share  the  rest  of  the  street  with 
lodging-houses  of  the  filthiest  description. 

In  the  month  of  July,  1815,  a  remarkable  scene 
was  witnessed  in  this  lane.  In  a  back  room  of  the 
house  No.  14  (  since  pulled  down  to  make  way  for 
Day  &  Martin's  blacking  manufactory  )  the  body  of 
a  young  woman,  who  had  a  few  days  before  been 
executed  at  Newgate  for  poisoning  the  family  in 

[87] 


JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

which  she  was  cook,  with  arsenic,  was  exhibited  by 
her  parents  to  all  comers.     The  street  was  filled 
with  crowds  of  compassionate  or  inquisitive  gazers. 
Money  was  freely  given  and  readily  received.     This 
extraordinary  exhibition  continued  for  five  days. 
On  the  31st  of  July,  a  funeral  procession  wound  its 
way   up   Lamb's*   Conduit    Street,   to   the   burial- 
ground  at  the  back  of  the  Foundling  Hospital.    The 
pall  was  borne  by  six  young  women  robed  in  white. 
Thousands  of  spectators  ( it  is  stated,  in  the  papers 
of  the  day,  as  many  as  ten  thousand  )  followed  the 
coffin  to  the  grave,  and  crowded  round  as  it  was 
lowered  into  the  earth.     It  bore  upon  its  lid  these 
words — "Elizabeth  Fenning,  died  July    26,   1815, 
aged  22  years."     From  that  day  to  this,  the  case  of 
Eliza  Fenning  has  been  cited  as  one  in  which  an  in 
nocent  person  fell  a  victim  to  the  hasty  judgment 
of  a  prejudiced  and  incompetent  tribunal.    Nor  must 
it  be  supposed  that  this  feeling  has  been  confined  to 
an  ignorant  or  angry  populace.     Sir  Samuel  Romilly 
recorded  his  belief  in  her  innocence.     Curran  was 
in  the  habit  of  declaiming  in  glowing  words  on  the 
injustice  of  her  fate ;  and  even  recently  an  able  and 
kind-hearted  man,  whose  experience  of  criminal  in 
quiries  was  most  extensive,  and  certainly  not  of  a  kind 
to  induce  him  lightly  to  assume  the  innocence  of  a 
convicted  felon,  has  told  the  story  of  Eliza  Fenning, 
and  concludes  his  narrative  in  the  folloAving  words : 
"  Poor  Eliza  Fenning  !  So  young,  so  fair,  so  innocent, 
so  sacrificed !   Cut  down  even  in  thy  morning,  witli 
all  life's  brightness  only  in  its  dawn !  Little  did  it 
profit  theethat  a  city  mourned  over  thy  early  grave, 


JSLIZA    FEXXIXG.  89 

and  that  the  most  eloquent  of  men  did  justice  to 
thy  memory."  * 

On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  remembered  that 
Fenning  was  defended  by  able  counsel ;  that  after 
her  conviction  the  case  was  again  investigated  by  the 
law  advisers  of  the  Crown ;  that  the  trial  took  place 
on  the  llth  of  April,  and  the  execution  was  delayed 
until  the  26th  of  July — a  period  of  more  than  three 
months,  during  which  tune  every  opportunity  was 
afforded  for  bringing  forward  any  circumstance 
that  might  tell  in  the  prisoner's  favor ;  that  the  re 
sult  of  this  inquiry,  the  patience  and  impartiality  of 
which  there  seems  to  be  no  reasonable  ground  to 
doubt,  was  a  confirmation  of  the  verdict  of  the  jury. 
Here  then,  we  find  the  remarkable  fact,  that  in  a 
case  unattended  by  any  of  those  circumstances 
which  would  be  likely  to  excite  popular  sympathy 
on  the  one  hand,  or  to  pervert  the  judgment  of  the 
ordinary  tribunals  on  the  other,  there  is  a  distinct 
issue  between  the  decision  of  the  law  and  the  ver 
dict  of  public  opinion.  It  speaks  well  both  for  the 
people  and  for  the  tribunals  by  which  justice  is  ad 
ministered,  that  such  a  case  is  of  extreme  rarity ; 
and  it  is.  an  interesting  and  curious  inquiry  to  ex 
amine  the  facts  from  which  it  arises. 

Eliza  Fenning  was  cook  in  the  family  of  a  Mr. 
Robert  Gregsoii  Turner,  a  law  stationer  in  Chancery 
Lane.  The  family  consisted  of  Turner,  his  wife, 
two  apprentices  named  Gadsden  and  King — youths 
of  seventeen  or  eighteen  years  of  age,  who  lived  in 
the  house — a  housemaid  of  the  name  of  Sarah  Peer, 

*  Vacation  Thoughts  on  Capital   Punishments,  by  Charles  Phillips; 
p.  102. 


90  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

and  the  prisoner.  Turner's  father,  Mr.  Orlibar 
Turner,  was  a  partner  in  the  business,  but  resided 
at  Lambeth.  On  Tuesday,  the  21st  of  March, 
Orlibar  Turner  dined  with  his  son  and  his  daughter- 
in-law.  Part  of  the  dinner  consisted  of  some  yeast 
dumplings,  of  which  all  three  partook.  They  had 
hardly  done  so  when  they  were  attacked  by  violent 
pain,  accompanied  by  the  symptoms  of  arsenical 
poisoning.  Soon  afterwards,  Gadsden,  one  of  the 
apprentices,  who  had  dined  at  an  earlier  hour,  came 
into  the  kitchen,  and  finding  the  remains  of  the 
dumplings,  which  had  been  brought  down  from  the 
parlor,  ate  a  small  piece,  when  he  was  attacked  by 
similar  symptoms.  The  next  sufferer  was  Eliza 
Forming  herself,  who  was  taken  ill  in  a  like  manner 
later  in  the  afternoon.  Sarah  Peer  and  King,  the 
other  apprentice,  who  had  dined  earlier  and  did  not 
eat  any  part  of  the  dumplings,  escaped. 

The  first  inquiry  is,  in  what  medium  was  the 
poison  conveyed? 

All  the  persons  who  had  partaken  of  the  dump 
lings  were  attacked  in  a  greater  or  less  degree. 
The  flour  from  which  they  were  made  was  exam 
ined,  but  no  poison  found;  and  Forming,  Peer,  and 
King  had  dined  on  a  pie,  the  crust  from  which  was 
made  of  the  same  flour,  without  any  ill  effects.  The 
poison,  therefore,  was  not  in  the  flour.  Some  sauce 
had  been  served  in  a,  boat  separate  from  the  dump 
lings,  and  of  this  sauce  Mr.  Orlibar  Turner  did  not 
partake,  yet  he  was  one  of  the  sufferers.  The  poi 
son,  therefore,  was  not  in  the  sauce;  nor  was  it  in 
the  yeast,  the  remains  of  which  were  also  examined. 


ELIZA   FEXXIXG.  91 

There  was  what  would  now  be  considered  a  most 
unaccountable  amount  of  carelessness  in  the  exami 
nation  of  the  dumplings  themselves;  but  the  re 
mains  of  the  dough  left  in  the  pan  in  which  they 
were  prepared  was  examined,  and  unquestionably 
contained  arsenic.  Indeed,  no  reasonable  ground 
has  ever  been  suggested  for  doubting  that  the  poi 
son  was  contained  in  the  dumplings,  and  that  it  was 
placed  there  by  some  one  during  their  preparation. 

The  next  inquiry  is,  how  was  the  poison  pro 
cured  ? 

Mr.  Turner  had  been  in  the  habit  of  using  arsenic 
for  the  destruction  of  rats  and  mice,  .with  which  his 
house  was  infested ;  and  the  poison  was  kept  with  the 
most  culpable  negligence.  It  lay  in  an  open  drawer 
in  the  office,  unlocked,  and  in  which  waste  paper 
was  kept.  It  was  urged  that  Fenning  was  in  the 
habit  of  taking  paper  from  the  drawer  for  the  pur 
pose  of  lighting  the  fire,  and  an  inference  was 
sought  to  be  drawn  from  that  circumstance  unfa 
vorable  to  her.  It  is  manifest  that  nothing  could 
be  more  groundless.  The  arsenic  was  no  doubt  ob 
tained  from  the  drawer — the  packet  in  wliich  it  was 
kept  having  been  missed  a  few  days  before ;  but 
there  was  not  one  particle  of  evidence,  with  regard 
to  the  abstraction  of  the  arsenic,  affecting  Fenuing 
more  than  any  other  member  of  the  family ;  for  to 
that  drawer  all  the  persons  in  the  house  had  easy 
access. 

Fenning  had  been  in  the  service  about  seven 
weeks.  Soon  after  she  entered  it,  her  mistress  ob 
served  some  levity  of  conduct  on  her  part  towards 


92  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

the  apprentices,  and  reproved  her  severely  for  it, 
threatening  to  discharge  her ;  but  this  passed  over ; 
and  with  this  exception,  she  does  not  appear  to 
have  had  any  discomfort  or  ground  of  ill-will  against 
her  mistress,  or  any  others  of  the  family.  We  look 
in  vain,  therefore,  for  any  adequate  motive  for  so 
horrible  a  crime.  We  must  now  trace  the  few  cir 
cumstances,  and  they  are  very  few,  which  the  jury 
considered  sufficient  to  lead  them  to  the  conclusion 
of  the  guilt  of  the  prisoner. 

On  the  morning  of  the  20th  of  March,  some  yeast 
Avas  brought  to  the  house  by  the  brewer's  man, 
which  had  been  ordered  by  Fcnning,  without  the 
knowledge  of  her  mistress,  a  day  or>two  before. 
The  yeast  was  received  by  Sarah  Peer,  the  house 
maid,  who  poured  it  into  a  white  basin,  and  gave  it 
to  Fenning.  The  remains  of  the  yeast  was  after 
wards  examined,  and  found  to  be  perfectly  pure. 
On  Tuesday  morning,  the  21st  of  March,  Mrs.  Tur 
ner  went  into  the  kitchen  and  gave  Fenning  direc 
tions  as  to  preparing  the  dumplings.  Fenning 
kneaded  the  dough,  made  the  dumplings,  was  in 
the  kitchen  the  whole  time  until  they  were  served 
up  to  table,  and  during  the  greater  part  of  that  time 
was  there  alone — Mrs.  Turner  having  left  her  soon 
after  giving  her  orders,  and  Sarah  Peer,  the  house 
maid,  being  engaged  at  her  duties  in  other  rooms. 
Fenning,  therefore,  had  ample  opportunity  to  mix 
the  poison  with  the  dumplings ;  and  it  is  difficult  to 
suppose  that  any  other  person  could  have  meddled 
with  them  without  her  being  aware  of  the  fact.  In 
deed,  she  herself  stated  that  no  other  person  had 


ELIZA   FEXXING.  93 

anything  to  do  with  the  dumplings.*  On  the  re 
mains  of  the  dinner  brought  down  into  the  kitchen, 
Gadsden,  as  we  have  before  stated,  came  in,  and 
seeing  one  of  the  dumplings,  took  up  a  knife  and 
fork  and  was  going  to  eat  it,  when  Penning  ex 
claimed,  "  Gadsden,  do  not  eat  that :  it  is  cold  and 
heavy ;  it  will  do  you  no  good."  Gadsden,  in  his 
evidence,  adds :  "  I  ate  a  piece  about  as  big  as  a  wal 
nut,  or  bigger.  There  was  a  small  quantity  of 
sauce  in  the  boat :  I  took  a  bit  of  bread  and  sopped 
it  in  it,  and  ate  that."  t  Gadsden  was  taken  ill 
about  ten  minutes  afterwards.  He  was  not,  how 
ever,  too  ill  to  be  sent  for  the  elder  Turner's  wife, 
Mrs.  Margaret  Turner.  On  her  arrival,  she  found 
her  husband,  son,  and  daughter-in-law  extremely  ill ; 
and  very  soon  afterwards  Eliza  Fenning  herself  was 
attacked  with  similar  symptoms.  Here,  then,  we 
find  this  curious  fact — all  the  persons  who  have 
partaken  of  the  dumplings  at  dinner  are  ill :  Gads 
den  is  warned  by  Feuning  not  to  eat  them ;  he  neg 
lects  the  warning,  and  is  almost  immediately  taken 
ill  in  the  same  manner ;  he  is  sent  to  Lambetli  to 
fetch  Mrs.  Margaret  Turner ;  and  Fenning  is  not 
taken  ill  until  after  her  arrival.  Considering  the  dis- 

O 

tance  from  Chancery  Lane  to  Lambeth,  this  must 
have  been  a  considerable  interval.  As  the  effects 
of  the  poison  (even  when  taken  in  so  small  a  quantity 
as  by  Gadsden)  were  almost  immediate,  it  follows 
that  Fenning  did  not  take  it  until  some  time  after 
these  symptoms  were  apparent  in  the  others,  and 
subsequent  to  the  warning  she  gave  Gadsden.  This 

*  list  Q.  t  Short-hancl  copy  of  the  Trial,  8!Ji  Q. 


94  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

seems  to  dispose  of  the  arguments  in  favor  of  her 
innocence,  which  have  been  founded  on  the  fact  of 
her  having  been  herself  a  sufferer  from,  the  poison. 
What  might  be  her  motive  is  a  matter  involved  in 
great  obscurity ;  but  there  seems  to  be  no  doubt 
that  she  took  it,  for  some  reason  or  other,  after  she 
had  seen  its  effects,  and  after  she  had  seen  cause  to 
warn  Gadsden  against  the  dumplings. 

This  very  slender  evidence  is  all  that  exists  apart 
from  that  which  is  derived  from  Fenning's  own 
statements,  which  we  shall  consider  presently. 

It  amounts  to  little  more  than  proof  that  Fen- 
iiing  might  easily  have  committed  the  crime,  and 
that  it  is  difficult  to  suppose  that  any  other  person 
could.  The  poison  was  unquestionably  in  the  dump 
lings  ;  it  was  unquestionably  placed  there  during 
their  preparation.  Who  but  Fcnning  could  have 
done  this  ?  But  we  now  come  to  the  consideration 
of  what  appears  to  us  to  be  by  far  the  most  import 
ant  evidence  in  the  case — namely,  the  statements 
made  by  Eliza  Fcnning  herself. 

Mrs.  Turner  the  elder  arrived  at  the  house,  as  we 
have  seen,  in  the  afternoon.  She  is  asked  whether 
she  had  any  conversation  with  Fcnning  on  the 
subject : 

"90th  Q. — Did  you  say  anything  to  her  Avhilc 
you  were  there  that  day  respecting  the  dumplings  ? 

11  A. — I  exclaimed  to  her,  'Oh,  these  devilish 
dumplings ! '  supposing  they  had  done  the  mischief. 
She  said,  '  Not  the  dumplinys,  but  the  milk,  madam.' 
I  asked  her,  '  What  milk  ? '  she  said, '  The  halfpenny 
worth  of  milk  that  Sally  had  fetched  to  make  the 


OF  THB 

UNIVERSITY 


ELIZA  

"  91st  Q. — Did  she  say  who  had  made  the  sauce  ? 

"  A. — My  daughter.  I  said,  '  That  cannot  be — it 
could  not  be  the  sauce.'  She  said,  '  Yes ;  Gadsden 
ate  a  very  little  bit  of  dumpling,  not  bigger  than  a 
nut,  but  licked  up  three  parts  of  a  boat  of  sauce 
with  a  bit  of  bread.' " 

During  the  whole  of  the  next  day,  Fenning,  in 
reply  to  repeated  inquiries,  persisted  that  the  poison 
was  in  the  milk  which  was  fetched  by  Sarah  Peer, 
and  used  for  the  sauce ;  that  it  was  not  in  the  dump 
lings  ;  and  that  no  one  had  mixed  anything  in  the 
dumplings,  or  had  anything  to  do  with  them,  but 
herself.  (Q.  69,  70,  71.) 

We  have  already  adverted  to  the  fact  that  Mr. 
Turner,  who  did  not  partake  of  the  sauce,  (94th  Q.) 
was  as  ill  as  any  of  the  others.  This  is,  of  course, 
conclusive  of  the  fact  that  the  poison  was  not  in 
the  sauce,  or  at  any  rate,  not  in  the  sauce  alone. 

The  arguments  in  favor  of  the  innocence  of  Fen 
ning  have  been  almost  entirely  based  on  the  fact  that 
she  herself  partook  of  the  poisoned  dumplings.  As 
we  have  already  seen,  she  did  not  do  this  until  after 
the  effects  had  been  produced  upon  all  the  other 
sufferers,  and  after  she  had  warned  Gadsden  that 
the  dumpling  was  "  cold  and  heavy,  and  would  do 
him  no  good."  Now,  in  order  to  support  the  hy 
pothesis  of  her  innocence,  it  must  be  supposed  that, 
feeling  certain  that  she  had  mixed  no  deleterious 
article  in  the  dumplings,  that  no  other  person  could 
have  done  so,  she  eats  a  portion  of  them  to  prove 
her  conviction  of  that  fact ;  otherwise,  why,  when 
she  had  dined  a  short  time  before  on  beefsteak-pie, 


96  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

should  s"he  cat  the  "cold  and  heavy"  dumpling 
which  she  had  warned  Gadsdcii  not  to  meddle  with  ? 
She  is  then  immediately  taken  ill.  Supposing  she 
were  innocent,  her  first  exclamation  would  have 
been  one  of  surprise.  "  The  dumplings  are  poison 
ed  !  who  has  done  this  ?  "  Instead  of  this,  she  seeks 
to  divert  suspicion  from  the  dumplings,  and  to  cast 
it  upon  the  milk  which  had  been  fetched  by  Sarah 
Peer. 

This  ready  falsehood,  and  attempt  to  divert  the 
suspicion  which  was  pointing  at  her  towards  an  in 
nocent  person,  appears  to  us  to  afford  strong  evi 
dence  of  her  guilt ;  and  this  evidence  is  strengthened 
by  the  fact  that  even  in  her  falsehood  she  was  not 
consistent.  The  next  day,  when  she  was  taken  into 
custody,  she  changed  her  story.  We  find  no  more 
about  the  milk.  She  tells  the  constable  that  she 
thinks  the  poison  was  in  the  yeast,  that  she  saw  a 
red  settlement  in  it.  We  have  already  stated  that 
the  remains  of  the  yeast  were  examined,  and  nothing 
whatever  of  a  deleterious  nature  discovered.  On 
her  trial  she  abandoned  both  these  stories,  and 
confined  herself  to  a  general  assertion  of  her  inno 
cence,  in  which  she  persisted  on  the  scaffold. 

Such,  then,  arc  the  facts  proved  in  evidence  in 
the  case  of  Eliza  Penning.  We  have  purposely  ab 
stained  from  alluding  to  the  utterly  irrelevant  mat 
ter  with  which  the  papers  of  the  day  were  filled. 
On  the  one  side,  Eliza  Penning  was  represented  as 
a  paragon  of  beauty  and  virtue;  on  the  other,  as  a, 
monster  of  depravity  and  vice.  There  is  not  one 
particle  of  reason  for  believing  cither  one  statement 


ELIZA   FENXIXG.  97 

or  the  other.  Until  she  was  charged  with  the  crime 
for  which  she  suffered,  she  seems  to  have  been  very 
much  like  any  other  commonplace  servant  of  a  some 
what  low  class.  Is  there,  then,  evidence  sufficient 
to  lead  us,  after  a  dispassionate  consideration,  to  a 
conclusion  either  one  way  or  the  other  ?  We  con 
fess  that  we  think  there  is ;  and  the  conclusion  at 
which  we  arrive  is,  that  Fenning  was  guilty. 

By  a  process  of  exhaustion  we  arrive  at  the  fact, 
that  it  was  hardly  possible  that  any  person  but 
Fenning  could  have  introduced  the  arsenic  into  the 
dumplings.  This,  alone,  would  perhaps  not  justify 
us  in  coming  to  a  positive  conclusion ;  but  her  own 
conduct,  her  false  and  contradictory  statements,  her 
warning  Gadsden,  and  her  eagerness  to  throw  the 
blame  on  a  person  who  was  undoubtedly  innocent, 
leave  in  our  minds  no  doubt  gf  her  own  guilt. 

We  are  met,  however,  by  two  difficulties.  First, 
the  absence  of  any  adequate  motive  for  the  crime ; 
and,  secondly,  the  fact  that  she  herself  partook  of 
the  poisoned  dumplings. 

With  regard  to  the  first,  all  persons  who  have  any 
practical  experience  of  criminal  courts  know  how 
slight  and  insignificant  are  the  motives  which  some- 
tunes  impel  to  the  commission  of  the  most  appal 
ling  crimes.  The  poisoning  even  of  children  by 
their  own  parents,  to  obtain  the  paltry  allowance 
made  by  burial-clubs  on  their  deaths,  became  so 
common  a  few  years  ago  as  to  occasion  the  express 
interference  of  the  legislature.  We  were  our 
selves  present  at  the  trial  of  Betty  Eccles.  That 
wretched  woman  had  contracted  a  habit  of  poison- 

PlTZZLES— O. 


98  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

ing.  If  a  neighbor's  child  cried,  it  was  quieted  with 
a  dose  of  arsenic.  One  poor  little  victim,  not  sus 
pecting  the  cause  of  her  agony,  besought  the  mur 
deress  to  take  her  to  the  pump  to  get  a  drink  of 
water,  to  allay  the  burning  thirst  with  which  she 
was  tormented ;  "  Thee  mayest  lie  where  thee  art," 
was  the  reply;  "thee  won't  want  water  long." 
When  incendiary  fires  were  rife,  many  instances  oc 
curred  in  which  there  seemed  to  be  no  assignable 
motive  at  all  beyond  the  mere  desire  to  see  a  blaze 
and  to  cause  an  excitement. 

The  genius  of  Scott  was  never  displayed  in  great 
er  vigor  than  in  the  scene  where  Elspeth  of  the 
Craigburnfoot  discloses  to  Lord  Glenallan  the  con 
spiracy  which  resulted  in  the  death  of  Eveline 
Neville ;  nor  is  his  knowledge  of  the  human  heart 
more  completely  shown  by  anything  than  the  trivial 
cause  which  he  assigns  for  Elspeth's  bitter  hatred 
and  deep  revenge :  "I  hated  Miss  Eveline  Neville 
for  her  ain  sake.  I  brought  her  frae  England,  and 
during  our  whole  journey  she  gecked  and  scorned 
at  my  northern  speech  and  habit,  as  her  southland 
leddies  and  kimmers  had  done  at  the  boarding- 
school,  as  they  ca'd  it."  Most  of  our  readers,  we 
fear,  if  they  look  honestly  back  through  their  own 
experience,  will  be  able  to  recall  some  domestic 
tragedy  which  has  originated  in  as  trivial  a  cause. 
It  is  equally  true  of  crime  as  of  other  things,  moral 
and  physical,  that  the  most  monstrous  growth  often 
springs  from  the  most  minute  seed. 

With  regard  to  the  second  argument,  it  must  be 
owned  that,  if  the  dumplings  had  been  prepared  for 


ELIZA   FEXXING.  99 

the  dinner  of  which  Fenning  was  to  partake,  it 
would  have  been  one  of  considerable  force.  But 
this  was  not  so.  Fenning  had  prepared  the  dinner 
for  herself,  her  fellow-servant,  Gadsden,  and  the 
other  apprentice.  She  made  the  crust  of  the  pie 
from  the  same  flour  which  was  used  for  the  dump 
lings,  but  no  one  suffered  from  sharing  that  meal. 
She  ate  the  dumpling  after  the  ill  effects  had  been 
experienced  —  after  she  had  cautioned  Gadsden. 
Whether  she  ran  the  risk  for  the  sake  of  concealing 
her  crime,  or  whether  she  desired  to  destroy  her  own 
life,  it  is  impossible  to  say.  It  has  been  asserted 
that,  after  the  execution  of  Fenning,  some  person 
confessed  that  he  had  been  the  murderer.  This 
rests  on  mere  rumor.  We  have  reason  to  believe 
that  there  is  more  ground  for  the  statement  which 
has  also  been  made,  that  though  Eliza  Fenning  per 
sisted  in  the  assertion  of  her  innocence  in  public 
and  to  the  Ordinary  of  Newgate,  yet  that  she  con 
fessed  her  guilt  to  another  person.  Neither  of 
these  reports,  however,  have  ever  assumed  a  tangi 
ble  form,  or  one  which  would  enable  them  to  be 
submitted  to  that  kind  of  scrutiny  which  alone  could 
give  them  value.  We  have  therefore  disregarded 
them  altogether  in  considering  the  case,  and  con 
fined  our  attention  to  legitimate  evidence  alone. 
We  attach  but  little  value  to  Fenning's  assertion  of 
her  innocence  on  the  scaffold.  Few  weeks  have 
passed  since  Mullins  was  executed,  making  similar 
protestations ;  yet  we  presume  that  no  doubt  exists 
in  the  mind  of  any  sane  man  that  he  was  the  murder 
er  of  Mrs.  Ernsley.  Gleeson  Wilson,  the  murderer  of 


100  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

Mrs.  Hendrickson  and  her  children,  persisted  to  the 
last  in  asseverations  of  his  innocence. 

We  have  said  that  it  is  rarely  that  public  opinion 
fails  to  confirm  the  decisions  of  our  criminal  courts. 
We  attribute  this  most  happy  circumstance  mainly 
to  three  things:  the  publicity  of  all  judicial  pro 
ceedings;  the  placing  of  all  issues  of  fact  in  the 
hands  of  the  jury;  and  the  freedom  of  the  judge 
from  any  part  in  the  conduct  of  the  trial.  But 
we  shall  probably  startle  many  of  our  readers  when 
we  say  that,  in  one  most  important  particular,  we 
think  that  one  of  the  oldest  and  best  established 
rules  of  our  criminal  law  might  be  considerably 
modified  with  advantage  to  the  ends  of  justice. 
We  allude  to  the  rule  which,  under  all  circumstan 
ces,  prohibits  the  examination  of  a  person  charged 
with  crime,  and  the  correlative  or  complimentary 
rule  which  precludes  him  from  giving  evidence  in  his 
own  behalf.  No  rule  is  more  strictly  observed  in 
English  jurisprudence.  From  the  moment  that  a 
man  is  charged  with  crime  until  he  is  placed  at  the 
bar  for  trial,  he  is  hedged  round  with  precautions 
to  prevent  him  from  criminating  himself.  Upon 
his  trial  he  cannot  be  asked  to  explain  a  doubtful  or 
suspicious  circumstance.  Whether  he  will  or  not, 
his  mouth  is  closed,  except  for  the  purpose  of  cross- 
examining  the  witnesses,  until  all  the  evidence  is 
heard  against  him,  and  then  he  addresses  the  jury 
with  the  disadvantage  (  and,  supposing  him  to  be  in 
nocent,  it  is  a  very  serious  disadvantage  )  that  even 
the  jury  or  the  judge  cannot  put  any  question 
to  him  which  might  enable  him  to  clear  up  what 


ELIZA    FEXXIXG.  101 

was  obscure,  or  to  explain  what  might  appear  to  be 
suspicious  in  his  conduct.  The  armor  with  which 
the  law  thus  shields  the  guilty  becomes  an  incum- 
brance  upon  the  innocent. 

The  rule  originates,  no  doubt,  in  a  love  of  fair  play. 
Every  man  is  entitled  to  be  considered  innocent 
until  he  is  proved  to  be  guilty.  You  must  not  make 
a  man  criminate  himself.  These  are  aphorisms  in 
which  we  fully  agree.  But  it  is  equally  true  that 
you  ought  to  give  every  man  the  utmost  freedom  to 
prove  that  he  is  innocent,  and  to  exculpate  himself. 

We  are  fully  aware  of  the  evils  that  arise  from 
the  system  pursued  in  the  French  courts,  where  the 
judge  interrogates  the  culprit  •  (we  use  the  word  in 
its  legal  sense  of  an  accused  person,  not  in  its  popu 
lar  meaning  of  a  guilty  one)  where  the  grave  judi 
cial  inquiry  degenerates  into  a  "  keen  encounter  of 
their  wits,"  and  the  hand  which  ought  to  hold  the 
balance  steady  wields,  instead,  the  sword  of  the  com 
batant.  We  know,  too,  the  still  greater  evils  that  at 
tend  the  system  of  secret  examination  by  the  judge, 
which  prevails  in  other  Continental  States,  and 
with  which  the  readers  of  Feuerbach  are  familiar ; 
and  we  would  far  rather  retain  the  imperfections  of 
our  own  system  than  adopt  the  infinitely  worse  mis 
chiefs  which  are  attendant  upon  either.  Still,  the 
reverse  of  wrong  is  not  necessarily  right ;  and  our 
own  course  of  proceeding  might,  we  think,  be  modi 
fied  with  advantage. 

In  the  present  state  of  the  law  this  curious  anom 
aly  exists,  that  in  the  very  same  state  of  facts,  it  de 
pends  upon  whether  the  proceeding  is  civil  or  crirn- 


102  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

inal,  whether  the  mouth  of  the  accused  person  is 
closed  or  not.  A  and  his  wife,  walking  home  at 
night,  are  met  by  B  and  his  wife,  when  B  knocks  A 
down.  A  indicts  B  for  the  assault,  and  this  being  a 
criminal  proceeding,  A  and  his  wife  give  their  evi 
dence  upon  oath,  whilst  neither  B  nor  his  wife  can 
be  examined  at  all.  But  suppose  that,  instead  of  in 
dicting  B,  A  had  brought  an  action  against  him, 
the  whole  case  is  changed.  Now  A  and  B,  and 
their  respective  wives,  can  all  be  examined  and 
cross-examined.  Can  there  be  a  doubt  which  course 
is  most  conducive  to  the  elucidation  of  the  truth ; 
and  can  a  grosser  absurdity  be  conceived  than  that 
the  same  court  should  adopt  modes  of  procedure  so 
inconsistent  in  an  inquiry  into  the  same  facts,  be 
fore  the  same  judge  and  the  same  jury,  and  prac 
tically  between  the  same  parties  ? 

A  case  occurred  last  summer  which  excited  great 
interest,  and  which  forcibly  illustrates  the  evil  we 
complain  of. 

A  clergyman  of  the  name  of  Hatch  was  indicted 
for  a  gross  offense  alleged  to  have  been  committed 
upon  a  child  of  tender  years,  who  had  been  intrust 
ed  to  his  care  as  a  pupil.  The  charge  rested  almost 
solely  on  the  evidence  of  the  child,  a  girl  of  the 
name  of  Eugenia  Plummer.  Neither  Hatch  nor 

O 

his  wife  could  be  examined,  and,  as  theirs  was  the 
only  testimony  by  which,  from  the  nature  of  the 
case,  the  charge  could  be  rebutted,  Hatch  was 
convicted.  Under  the  circumstances,  it  was  hardly 
possible  that  the  jury  could  come  to  any  other  con 
clusion.  A  few  weeks  elapsed,  and  Eugenia  Plum- 


ELIZA   FEXXIXG.  103 

mer  was  placed  at  the  same  bar,  charged  with  per 
jury.  Then  the  tables  were  turned.  Hatch  and  his 
wife  were  examined ;  the  child's  mouth  was  closed. 
The  jury  convicted  Eugenia  Plummer  of  perjury. 
On  the  evidence  before  the  jury  no  other  result 
could  reasonably  have  been  expected.  Both  the 
juries  discharged  their  duties  with  honesty  and  in 
telligence.  Both  were  assisted  in  their  delibera 
tions  by  judges  of  the  highest  character  and  the 
greatest  experience  and  ability,  yet  one  jury  or  the 
other  convicted  an  innocent  person.  If  Plummer 
was  guilty,  Hatch  was  innocent;  if  Hatch  was 
guilty,  Plummer  was  herself  the  double  victim  of 
his  brutality  and  his  perjury.  "We  express  no  opin 
ion  whatever  as  to  which  jury  was  right,  but  it  is 
manifest  that  both  could  not  be.  It  must,  we  think, 
be  clear  to  every  one,  that  the  only  way  in  which  a 
case  of  this  kind  could  be  satisfactorily  tried  must 
be  by  confronting  and  examining  both  the  parties. 
To  attempt  to  try  such  issues  separately  is  like 
trying  to  cut  a  knot  with  the  two  disunited  halves 
of  a  pair  of  scissors. 

If,  upon  one  trial,  both  could  have  been  examin 
ed,  the  inquiry  would  very  possibly  have  terminated 
in  the  acquittal  of  both.  In  other  words,  the  jury 
might  have  found  the  evidence  of  both  so  unsatis 
factory  that  they  could  not  found  any  decision 
upon  it.  Such  a  result,  certainly,  would  not  have 
been  desirable,  yet  it  would  have  been  far  less 
objectionable  than  what  has  actually  taken  place. 
The  conviction  of  Eugenia  Plummer  for  perjury 
has  operated  as  a  virtual  acquittal  of  Hatch. 


104  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

But  every  one  must  feel  that  that  acquittal,  having 
been  obtained  when  the  mouth  of  the  only  mate 
rial  witness  against  him  was  closed,  is  far  less 
satisfactory  than  it  would  have  been  if  it  had  re 
sulted  from  the  decision  of  a  jury  who  had  heard 
the  evidence  of  Plummer. 

The  case  of  Elizabeth  Canning,  which  we  examin 
ed  at  length  in  a  former  number,  was  of  the  same 
description.  Squires  was  convicted  of  felony  on 
the  evidence  of  Canning,  and  Canning  was  sub 
sequently  convicted  of  perjury  committed  in  that 
very  evidence.  On  the  first  trial  Squires  could  not 
be  examined ;  on  the  second,  Canning  was  silenced, 
and  both  the  accused  persons  were  convicted.  Such 
cases  are  of  frequent  occurrence,  and  they  arc 
always  attended  by  this  evil,  that,  whether  rightly 
or  not,  public  opinion  will  unavoidably  be  divided 
as  to  the  result.  The  conviction  of  Canning  hardly 
diminished  either  the  number  or  the  zeal  of  those 
who  had  espoused  her  cause ;  and  it  would  probably 
be  found  that  the  juries  who  came  to  conflicting 
decisions  in  the  cases  of  Hatch  and  Eugenia  Plum 
mer,  represent,  not  unfairly,  the  diversities  of  public 
opinion. 

The  remedy  we  would  suggest  is,  that  in  all  cases 
a  culprit  should  be  permitted  to  tender  himself  for 
examination.  We  think  that  to  allow  the  prosecu 
tor  to  call  the  culprit,  and  to  examine  him  whether  he 
would  or  no,  would  be  attended  with  evils  greater 
than  any  advantage  to  be  derived  from  such  a 
course — evils  less  in  degree,  though  the  same  in 
kind,  as  those  which  make  us  shrink  with  horror 


ELIZA   FENTSTNG.  105 

from  the  idea  of  extracting  even  truth  by  the  means 
of  torture — means  which  have  never  been  used  in 
our  courts  since  they  were  adopted  by  the  express 
command  of  that  queen  whom  Lord  Macaulay  has 
held  up  to  us  as  the  pattern  of  every  gentle  and 
feminine  virtue,  and  her  ruthless  husband.  If  an 
accused  person  choose  to  remain  silent,  or  to  make 
his  statement  to  the  jury  without  the  sanction  of  an 
oath,  and  without  submitting  its  truth  to  the  test  of 
cross-examination,  he  should  be  fully  at  liberty  to 
do  so,  subject,  of  course,  to  the  unfavorable  effect 
which  such  a  proceeding  would  unavoidably  have 
on  the  minds  of  the  jury.  That  this  would  be  the 
line  taken  by  the  guilty  would  no  doubt  frequently 
be  the  case;  but  every  innocent  man  would,  we 
believe,  gladly  adopt  the  other  course.  We  have 
heard  it  urged  that  the  ignorant,  the  stupid,  or  the 
timid  man  would  be  thus  placed  at  a  disadvantage 
when  exposed  to  the  cross-examination  of  an  ex 
perienced,  acute,  and  possibly  not  very  scrupulous 
counsel.  We  believe,  on  the  contrary,  that  such  a 
person  is  the  very  one  to  whom  (supposing  him  to 
be  innocent)  the  course  we  suggest  would  be  of  the 
greatest  advantage.  What  is  the  position  of  such 
a  man  now  ?  He  is  left  to  blunder  his  story  out  as 
best  he  may,  casting  it  before  the  jury  in  a  confused, 
unintelligible  mass,  with,  very  possibly,  the  most 
material  parts  wholly  omitted.  If  our  suggestion 
were  adopted,  the  thread  of  his  narrative  would 
be  drawn  from  the  tangled  skein  by  the  hand  of  an 
experienced  advocate — its  consistency  and  its  truth 
would  be  tested  by  cross-examination,  and  confirmed 


106  JUDICIAL    PUZZLE  $• 

by  re-examination.  A  greater  boon  to  the  ignorant 
or  timid  man  falsely  accused  of  crime,  than  such  a 
mode  of  exculpating  himself,  we  can  hardly  con 
ceive. 

The  ultimate  object  of  all  criminal  jurisprudence 
is  the  safety  of  society.  When  a  crime  is  commit 
ted,  especially  if  it  is  one  of  a  nature  to  excite  ex 
treme  horror  and  detestation,  the  first  and  most 
natural  impulse  is  to  fix  the  guilt  upon  some  one- 
Outraged  humanity  and  public  indignation  demand 
a  victim.  In  the  case  of  the  Road  murder,  we  have 
seen  persons  who,  from  their  position  and  education, 
ought  to  know  better,  calling  out  for  the  abandon 
ment  of  the  established  forms  of  law  and  justice 
and  the  adoption  of  some  new  and  inquisitorial 
mode  of  proceeding.  We  have  seen  a  magistrate 
holding  a  sort  of  extrajudicial  court,  listening  to, 
and  even  asking  for,  the  most  absurd  and  irrelevant 
gossip,  and  exposing  the  gravest  and  most  serious 
inquiry  to  ridicule. 

To  attempt  to  supply  a  defect  by  adopting  an  ex 
ceptional  course  of  proceeding  in  an  individual  case, 
would  only  be  to  introduce  a  mischief  of  far  greater 
magnitude.  It  is  far  better  that  an  individual 

O 

crime,  however  horrible,  should  remain  unpunished, 
than  that  rules  established  for  the  purposes  of  jus 
tice  should  be  strained  or  set  aside.  But  it  is  well 
that  we  should  consider  carefully  whether  those 
rules  rest  on  a  sound  foundation.  We  have,  with 
great  advantage,  abandoned  the  rule  which  former 
ly  excluded  the  parties  to  civil  suits  from  giving 
evidence.  We  believe  that  nothing  but  good  would 


ELIZA   PENNING.  107 

result  from  the  removal  of  the  anomaly  which  still 
exists  in  our  criminal  courts  when  the  accuser  is 
sworn,  and  gives  his  evidence  on  oath,  whilst  the 
accused  is  refused  the  same  sanction  to  his  denial  of 
the  charge. 


V. 

SPEXCER  COWPER'S  CASE. 

At  the  summer  assizes  at  Hertford,  on  the  16th 
of  July,  1699,  a  young  barrister,  rising  into  emi 
nence  in  his  profession,  the  son  of  a  baronet  of 
ancient  family,  who  was  one  of  the  representatives, 
and  a  brother  of  a  King's  Counsel,  who  was  the 
other  representative  of  the  town  in  Parliament, 
held  up  his  hand  at  the  bar  to  answer  a  charge  of 
murder.  It  was  not  for  blood  shed  in  an  angry 
brawl — it  was  not  for  vindicating  his  honor  by  his 
sword  in  defiance  of  the  law,  that  Spencer  Cowper 
was  arraigned.  He  was  accused  of  having  deliber 
ately  murdered  a  woman,whose  only  fault  was  hav 
ing  loved  him  too  devotedly  and  trusted  him  too  im 
plicitly.  He  was  called  upon  to  plead  to  a  charge 
which,  if  proved,  would  not  only  consign  his  body 
to  the  gibbet,  but  his  name  to  eternal  infamy. 

Sarah  Stout  was  the  only  daughter  of  a  Quaker 
maltster  in  the  town  of  Hertford.  Her  father  was 
an  active  and  influential  supporter  of  the  Cowpers 
at  the  elections,  and  the  kind  of  intimacy  which 
ordinarily  takes  place  under  such  circumstances 
arose  between  the  families.  Attentions,  no  doubt 
highly  flattering  to  their  vanity,  were  paid  to  the 
wife  and  daughter  of  the  tradesman  by  the  ladies 
of  the  baronet's  family ;  and  an  intimacy  arose  be- 

PUZZLES— 10.  C  109  ] 


110  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES* 

tween  Spencer  Cowper  and  Sarah,  wliich  did  not 
cease  when  she  was  left  an  orphan  upon  the  death 
of  her  father,  and  he  became  the  husband  of  another 
woman.  He  managed  the  little  fortune  which  had 
been  bequeathed  to  her ;  he  occasionally  took  up 
his  abode  (whether  as  a  guest  or  lodger  does  not 
appear)  at  her  mother's  house,  when  business  called 
him  to  Hertford;  and  he  unhappily  inspired  her 
with  a  violent,  and,  as  the  event  proved,  a  fatal 
passion. 

Never  did  the  truth  of  the  proverb,  "  Cucullus 
non  facit  inonachum,"  or  rather,  in  this  case,  mon- 
acliam,  receive  a  stronger  confirmation  than  from 
the  story  of  poor  Sarah  Stout.  Stormy  passions 
beat  under  the  dove-colored  bodice,  and  flashed 
from  the  eyes  which  were  shaded  by  the  close 
white  cap  and  poke  bonnet  of  the  Quakeress.  Her 
whole  heart  and  soul  were  given  to  Spencer  Cow 
per.  A  man  of  sense  and  honor  would,  under  such 
circumstances,  at  once  have  broken  off  the  connec 
tion,  and  saved  the  girl,  at  the  cost  of  some 
present  suffering,  from  future  guilt  and  misery. 
A  man  of  weak  determination  and  kind  feel 
ings  might  have  got  hopelessly  involved  in  at 
tempting  to  avoid  inflicting  pain.  Cowper  did 
neither.  He  carried  on  a  clandestine  correspond 
ence  with  her  under  feigned  names,  and  received 
letters  from  her  breathing  the  most  ardent  passion, 
which  he  displayed  amongst  his  profligate  associ 
ates.  He  introduced  a  friend  to  her  as  a  suitor, 
and  then  betrayed  to  that  friend  the  secrets  which, 
above  al1  others,  a  man  of  honor  is  bound  to  guard 


SPEXCER  COWPER'S  CASE.  Ill 

with  the  strictest  fidelity.     He  behaved  as  ill  as  a 
man  could  do  under  the  circumstances. 

On  the  morning  of  Monday,  the  13th  day  of 
March,  the  first  day  of  the  spring  assizes  of  1699, 
Spencer  Cowper  arrived  in  Hertford,  traveling  (as 
was  then  the  custom  of  the  bar)  on  horseback.  He 
went  direct  to  the  house  of  Mrs.  Stout,  where  he 
was  expected,  in  consequence  of  a  letter  which  had 
been  written,  announcing  his  intended  visit.  He 
was  asked  to  alight,  but  declined  to  do  so,  as  he 
wished  to  show  himself  in  the  town.  He  promised, 
however,  to  send  his  horse,  and  to  come  himself  to 
dinner.  This  promise  he  kept,  and  having  dined 
with  Mrs.  Stout  and  her  daughter,  he  left  the  house 
about  four  o'clock,  saying  that  he  had  business  in 
the  town,  but  that  he  would  return  in  the  evening. 
At  nine  he  returned,  asked  for  pen,  ink,  and  paper 
to  write  to  his  wife,  and  had  his  supper.  Mrs. 
Stout,  the  mother,  went  to  bed,  leaving  Spencer 
Cowper  and  her  daughter  together,  orders  having 
been  given  to  make  a  fire  in  his  room.  Between 
ten  and  eleven  o'clock  Sarah  called  the  servant  girl, 
and,  in  Cowper's  hearing,  desired  her  to  warm  his 
bed.  She  went  up-stairs  for  that  purpose,  leaving 
Spencer  Cowper  and  Sarah  alone  in  the  parlor  to 
gether.  As  she  went  up-stairs  she  heard  the  house- 
clock  (which  was  half  an  hour  too  fast)  strike  eleven. 
In  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  afterwards  she  heard 
the  house-door  shut  to,  and,  supposing  that  Cowper 
had  gone  to  post  his  letter,  she  remained  warming 
his  bed  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  longer.  She  then 
went  down-stairs,  and  found  that  both  Spencer  Cow 
per  and  her  young  mistress  were  gone. 


112  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

The  mother  could  not  be  examined  upon  the  trial, 
as  she  was  a  Quaker,  and  could  not  take  an  oath. 
The  account  of  the  transactions  of  that  day,  there 
fore,  rests  solely  upon  the  evidence  of  Sarah  Walk 
er,  the  servant,  who  deponed  as  follows : 

"  May  it  please  you,  my  lord,  on  Friday  before 
the  last  assizes,  Mr.  Cowper's  wife  sent  a  letter  to 
Mrs.  Stout,  that  she  might  expect  Mr.  Cowpcr  at 
the  assize-time;  and,  therefore,  we  expected  Mr- 
Cowper  at  that  time,  and  accordingly  provided ; 
and  as  he  came  in  with  the  judges,  she  asked  him 
if  he  would  alight  ?  He  said,  '  No ;  by  reason  I 
came  in  later  than  usual,  I  will  go  into  town  and 
show  myself,'  but  he  would  send  his  horse  presently. 
She  asked  him  how  long  it  would  be  before  he  would 
come,  because  they  would  stay  for  him  ?  He  said 
he  could  not  tell,  but  he  would  send  her  word ;  and 
she  thought  he  had  forgot,  and  sent  me  down  to 
know  whether  he  would  please  to  come.  He  said 
he  had  business,  and  he  could  not  come  just  then  ; 
but  he  came  in  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after, 
and  dined  there,  and  he  went  away  at  four  o'clock ; 
and  then  my  mistress  asked  him  if  he  would  lie 
there  ?  And  he  answered  yes,  and  he  came  at  night 
about  nine ;  and  he  sat  talking  about  half  an  hour, 
and  then  called  for  pen,  ink,  and  paper,  for  that,  as 
he  said,  he  was  to  write  to  his  wife ;  which  was 
brought  him,  and  he  wrote  a  letter ;  and  then  my 
mistress  went  arid  asked  him  what  he  would  have 
for  supper?  lie  said  milk,  by  reason  he  had  made 
a  good  dinner ;  and  I  got  him  his  supper,  and  he  ate 
it ;  after,  she  called  me  in  again,  and  they  were  talk- 


113 

ing  together,  and  then  she  bid  me  make  a  fire  in 
his  chamber ;  and  when  I  had  done  so,  I  came  and 
told  him  of  it,  and  he  looked  at  me,  and  made  me 
no  answer ;  then  she  bid  me  warm  the  bed,  which 
accordingly  I  went  up  to  do  as  the  clock  struck 
eleven ;  and  in  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  I  heard 
the  door  shut,  and  I  thought  he  was  gone  to  convey 
the  letter,  and  stayed  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
longer,  and  came  down,  and  he  was  gone,  and  she ; 
and  Mrs.  Stout,  the  mother,  asked  me  the  reason 
why  he  went  out  when  I  was  warming  his  bed? 
And  she  asked  me  for  my  mistress,  and  I  told  her  I 
left  her  with  Mr.  Cowper ;  and  I  never  saw  her  after 
that,  nor  did  Mr.  Cowper  return  to  the  house."  * 

Cowper,  who  defended  himself  with  great  ability, 
asked  the  witness  in  cross-examination : 

"  When  you  came  down  and  missed  your  mistress, 
did  you  inquire  after  her  all  that  night  ? 

"A. — No,  sir,  I  did  not  go  out  of  the  doors ;  I 
thought  you  were  with  her,  and  so  I  thought  she 
would  come  to  no  harm. 

"J/r.  Cowper. — Here  is  a  whole  night  she  gives 
no  account  of.  Pray,  mistress,  why  did  you  not  go 
after  her  ? 

"A. — My  mistress  would  not  let  me. 

"Mr.  Cowper. — Why  would  she  not  let  you ? 

"A. — I  said  I  would  seek  for  her.  '  No,'  says  she, 
4  by  reason,  if  you  go  and  seek  for  her,  and  do  not 
find  her,  it  will  make  an  alarm  over  the  town,  and 
there  may  be  no  occasion.'  "  f 

Maternal  solicitude  could  not  be  very  strong  in  the 

*  13  State  Trials,  1112.  t  Ibid,  1114. 


114  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

breast  of  Mrs.  Stout,  or  slie  was  disposed  to  place 
a  more  than  ordinary  degree  of  confidence  in  the 
discretion  of  her  daughter  and  young  Cowper. 
Sarah  Stout  was  never  again  seen  alive.  The  next 
morning  her  body  was  found  in  a  mill-dam  some 
thing  less  than  a  mile  distant.  Cowper  never  re 
turned  to  Mrs.  Stout's ;  he  was  seen  at  an  inn  in  the 
town  at  eleven,  and  arrived  at  other  lodgings,  which 
he  had  hired  in  the  town,  at  a  quarter  past.  Here  the 
evidence  ends.  A  vast  amount  of  testimony  was 
given  at  the  trial,  as  to  whether  the  body  of  the 
girl  floated  or  not ;  as  to  whether  a  body  thrown  in 
to  the  water  after  death  would  float  or  sink ;  but  it 
came  to  nothing.  The  coroner's  inquest  had  been 
hurried  over,  and  no  examination  of  the  body  had 
taken  place  until  long  after  decomposition  had  pro 
ceeded  too  far  to  allow  of  any  satisfactory  result 
being  arrived  at. 

In  a  former  number  ^  we  observed  on  the  ef 
fect  of  the  rule  of  law  which  excludes  a  prisoner 
not  only  from  giving  evidence  on  his  own  behalf ,  but 
also  from  tendering  himself  for  cross-examination. 
If  Cowper  was  innocent,  that  rule  bore  hardly  upon 
him  in  the  present  case.  We  will,  however,  give 
him  the  full  benefit  of  his  own  account  of  the  matter. 
He  said  f — and  in  this  he  was  confirmed  by  the  evi 
dence  of  his  brother — that  having  received  a  pressing 
invitation  to  take  up  his  quarters  during  the  assizes 
at  Mrs.  Stout's,  he  had  resolved  to  do  so,  his  object 
being  to  save  the  expense  of  other  lodgings  at  the 
house  of  a  person  of  the  name  of  Barefoot,  where 

*  Ante,  Eliza  Fenning's  Case.  t  13  State  Trials,  1H9. 


SPENCER    COWPER  S    CASE.  115 

he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  staying  with  his  brother. 
Finding  that  his  brother  would  be  detained  in  Lon 
don  by  his  parliamentary  duties,  he  requested  him 
to  write  and  countermand  the  lodgings  at  Barefoot's. 
This  he  neglected  to  do,  and  on  Spencer  Cowper's 
arrival  at  Hertford  he  found  them  prepared  for  him. 
Finding  that  he  should  have  at  any  rate  to  pay  for 
these  lodgings,  which  were  nearer  to  the  court 
house  and  more  commodious  than  Mrs.  Stout's,  he 
determined  to  occupy  them.  His  account  is  as  fol 
lows: 

"  My  lord,  as  to  my  coming  to  this  town  on  Mon 
day,  it  was  the  first  day  of  the  assizes,  and  that  was 
the  reason  that  brought  me  hither  ;  before  I  came 
out  of  town,  I  confess,  I  had  a  design  to  take  a 
lodging  at  this  gentlewoman's  house,  having  been 
invited  by  letter  so  to  do  ;  and  the  reason  why  I 
did  not  was  this  :  my  brother,  when  he  went  the 
circuit,  always  favored  me  with  the  offer  of  a  part 
of  his  lodgings,  which,  out  of  good  husbandry,  I  al 
ways  accepted.  The  last  circuit  was  in  Parliament- 
time,  and  my  brother  being  in  the  money-chair, 
could  not  attend  the  circuit  as  he  used  to  do  ;  he 
had  very  good  lodgings,  I  think  one  of  the  best  in 
this  town,  where  I  used  to  be  with  him  ;  these  were 
always  kept  for  him,  unless  notice  was  given  to  the 
contrary.  The  Friday  before  I  came  down  to  the 
assizes  I  happened  to  be  in  company  with  my  broth 
er  and  another  gentleman,  and  then  I  showed  them 
the  letter  by  which  I  was  earnestly  invited  down  to 
lie  at  the  house  of  this  gentlewoman  during  the  assizes 
[  it  is  dated  the  9th  of  March  last  ]  ;  and  designing 


OF  THE 


116  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

to  comply  with  the  invitation,  I  thereupon  desired 
my  brother  to  write  to  Mr.  Barefoot,  our  landlord, 
and  get  him,  if  he  could,  to  dispose  of  the  lodgings ; 
for,  said  I,  if  he  keeps  them,  they  must  be  paid 
for,  and  then  I  cannot  well  avoid  lying  there. 
My  brother  did  say  he  would  write,  if  he  could 
think  on  it ;  and  thus,  if  Mr.  Barefoot  disposed  of 
the  lodgings,  I  own  I  intended  to  lie  at  the  de 
ceased's  house;  but  if  not,  I  looked  on  myself 
obliged  to  lie  at  Mr.  Barefoot's.  Accordingly  I 
shall  prove,  as  soon  as  ever  I  came  to  this  town,  in 
the  morning  of  the  first  day  of  the  assizes,  I  went 
directly  to  Mr.  Barefoot's,  [the  maid  and  all  agreed 
in  this]  and  the  reason  was,  I  had  not  seen  my 
brother  after  he  said  he  would  write,  before  I  went 
out  to  London ;  and  therefore  it  was  proper  for  me 
to  go  first  to  Mr.  Barefoot's  to  know  whether  my 
brother  had  wrote  to  him,  and  whether  he  had  dis 
posed  of  his  lodgings  or  not.  As  soon  as  I  came  to 
Mr.  Barefoot's,  I  asked  his  wife  and  maid-servant, 
one  after  another,  if  they  had  received  a  letter  from 
my  brother  to  unbespeak  the  lodgings ;  they  told  me 
no,  that  the  room  was  kept  for  us ;  and  I  think  they 
had  made  a  fire,  and  that  the  sheets  were  airing.  I 
was  a  little  concerned  he  had  not  writ ;  but  being 
satisfied  that  no  letter  had  been  received,  I  said  im 
mediately,  as  I  shall  prove  by  several  witnesses,  if 
it  be  so,  I  must  stay  with  you ;  I  will  take  up  my 
lodging  here.  Thereupon  I  alighted,  and  sent  for 
my  bag  to  the  coffee-house,  and  lodged  all  my  things 
ut  Barefoot's,  and  thus  I  took  up  my  lodging  there 
as  usual.  I  had  no  sooner  done  this,  but  Sarah 


SPEXCER   COWPER'S    CASE.  117 

Walker  came  to  me  from  her  mistress  to  invite  me 
to  dinner,  and  accordingly  I  went  and  dined  there ; 
and  when  I  went  away,  it  may  be  true  that,  being 
asked,  I  said  I  would  come  again  at  night ;  but  that 
I  said  I  would  lie  there,  I  do  positively  deny; 
and  knowing  I  could  not  lie  there,  it  is  unlikely  I 
should  say  so.  My  lord,  at  night  I  did  come  again, 
and  paid  her  some  money  that  I  received  from  Mr. 
Loftus,  who  is  the  mortgagor,  for  interest  of  the 
£200  I  before  mentioned  [  it  was  £6,  odd  money,  in 
guineas  and  half-guineas]  :  I  writ  a  receipt,  but  she 
declined  the  signing  of  it,  pressing  me  to  stay  there 
that  night ;  which  I  refused,  as  engaged  to  lie  at 
Mr.  Barefoot's,  and  took  my  leave  of  her ;  and  that 
very  money  which  I  paid  her  was  found  in  her 
pocket,  as  I  have  heard,  after  she  was  drowned."  * 

When  Cowper  recurs,  at  a  later  period  of  the 
trial,  to  the  events  of  that  night,  he  says :  "  Now,  if 
your  lordship  pleases,  I  would  explain  that  part  of 
Sarah  Walker  the  maid's  evidence,  when  she  says 
her  mistress  ordered  her  to  warm  the  bed,  and  I 
never  contradicted  it."  And  after  calling  the  at 
tention  of  the  court  to  the  warm  expressions  con 
tained  in  the  letter  he  had  received  from  the  girl, 
he  goes  on : 

"  I  had  rather  leave  it  to  be  observed  than  make 
the  observation  myself,  what  might  be  the  dispute 
between  us  at  the  time  the  maid  speaks  of.  I  think 
it  was  not  necessary  she  should  be  present  at  the 
debate;  and  therefore  I  might  not  interrupt  her 
mistress  or  the  orders  she  gave ;  but  as  soon  as  the 

*  13  State  Trials,  1150. 


118  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

maid  was  gone  I  made  use  of  these  objections ;  and 
I  told  Mrs.  Stout  by  what  accident  I  was  obliged 
to  take  up  my  lodging  at  Mr.  Barefoot's,  and  that 
the  family  was  sitting  up  for  me ;  that  my  staying 
at  her  house  under  these  circumstances  would  in 
all  probability  invoke  the  censure,  of  the  town  and 
country,  and  that  therefore  I  could  not  stay,  what 
ever  my  inclination  otherwise  might  be ;  but,  my 
lord,  my  reasons  not  prevailing,  I  was  forced  to 
decide  the  controversy  by  going  to  my  lodging; 
so  that  the  maid  may  swear  true  when  she  says  I 
did  not  contradict  her  orders."  * 

It  will  be  observed  that  Cowper  first  puts  his 
change  of  intention  as  to  staying  at  Mrs.  Stout's 
solely  on  the  ground  of  having  other  lodgings  on 
his  hands.  He  says  that  until  he  found  those  lodg 
ings  Avere  engaged,  he  had  determined  to  take  up 
his  abode  at  Mrs.  Stout's.  The  question  was  simply 
one  of  the  cost  of  the  lodgings.  When,  however, 
he  has  to  account  for  the  servant  girl's  evidence  as 
to  his  consent  to  the  preparations  for  his  passing 
the  night  there,  orders  for  which  were  given  in  his 
•presence,  then,  for  the  first  time,  he  begins  to  talk 
of  "provoking  the  censure  of  the  town  and  coun 
try."  t  It  is  impossible  to  know  what  took  place 
after  the  servant  girl  left  the  room.  Cowper  him 
self  leaves  it  unexplained  whether  he  left  Sarah 
Stout  in  the  house,  or  whether  she  quitted  it  at  the 
same  time  that  he  did.  The  latter  would  seem  to 
be  the  more  probable  conjecture,  from  the  fact  that 
the  door  was  only  heard  to  shut  once,  and  it  was 

*  State  Trials,  1170.  t  Ibid,  1177. 


SPENCER  COTVPEK'S  CASE.  119 

proved  that  it  was  not  easy  to  shut  the  door  with 
out  being  heard.  If  Cowper  had  been  entitled  to 
submit  himself  to  cross-examination,  these  facts 
might  have  been,  and  probably  would  have* been, 
explained. 

Here,  not  only  the  evidence,  but  the  whole  sub 
stance  of  Cowper's  defense  ends.  The  trial  was 
prolonged  by  an  enormous  mass  of  testimony,  partly 
from  men  of  the  highest  eminence  in  the  medical 
profession,  and  partly  from  persons  who  had  seen 
great  numbers  of  bodies,  some  of  which  had  been 
thrown  into  the  sea  after  death,  and  others  of 
which  had  been  drowned  in  naval  engagements  and 
shipwrecks,  as  to  whether  the  fact  of  a  body  float 
ing  afforded  any  evidence  that  life  was  extinct  be 
fore  it  had  been  thrown  into  the  water.  On  this 
point  the  evidence  was,  as  might  be  anticipated, 
contradictory,  but  had  it  been  otherwise,  it  would 
have  been  of  no  value ;  for  the  question,  whether 
Sarah  Stout's  body  floated  or  sank,  was  not  proved 
either  one  way  or  the  other.  It  was  found  en 
tangled  among  some  stakes  in  the  mill-dam,  in 
a  manner  which  rendered  it  impossible  to  say 
whether  it  was  supported  or  kept  down.*  There 

*See  the  evidence  of  Berry  .Venables,  Dell,  Ulfe,  Dew,  Edmunds,  Page, 
How,  and  Meager,  13  State  Trials,  111G  to  1122.  All  these  witnesses,  who 
were  present  when  the  body  was  found  in  the  mill-dam,  agree  in  assert 
ing  that  the  "body  "floated,"  and  they  no  doubt  believed  what  they 
said,  their  evidence  affording  an  example  of  how  far  a  preconceived 
idea  will  affect  belief  ;  they  describe  the  body  as  lying  on  the  right  side, 
the  head  and  right  arm  being  driven  between  the  stakes ,  which  were 
something  less  than  a  foot  apart,  by  the  stream.  Robert  Dew  and 
Young,  who  were  called  on  behalf  of  the  prisoner,  and  who  were  also 
present  when  the  body  was  taken  out  of  the  water,  assert  equally  posi- 


120  JUDICIAL   PUZZLES. 

was,  therefore,  no  basis  on  which  to  found  the  scien 
tific  evidence,  and  the  case  against  Cowper  rested 
upon  a  very  few  facts,  and  may  be  summed  up 
in  very  few  words.  He  was  the  last  person  in 
Sarah  Stout's  company.  His  conduct  on  leaving 
the  house  was  mysterious  and  unexplained.  When 
he  left,  instead  of  going  direct  to  his  lodgings,  he 
went  to  the  Glove  and  Dolphin  Inn  to  pay  a  small 
bill  for  horse-keep.  This  had  somewhat  the  appear 
ance  of  a  desire  to  secure  evidence  of  an  alibi.  He 
was,  on  his  own  showing,  embarrassed  by  Sarah 
Stout's  pertinacious  attachment,  and  had  a  stronger 
motive  to  get  rid  of  her  than  has  sometimes  been 
found  sufficient  to  prompt  men  to  the  most  revolting 
crimes.  On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  remembered 
that  Cowper  was  not,  like  Tawell,  a  man  who  prided 
himself  on  his  reputation  for  the  respectabilities  of 
life,  but,  as  well  as  his  more  celebrated  brother,  a 
man  of  known  libertinism,  not  likely  to  commit  a 
crime  of  the  deepest  dye  for  the  purpose  of  conceal 
ing  a  disreputable  intrigue.  To  have  convicted 
Cowper  of  murder  upon  this  evidence  would  have 

tively  that  the  body  sank — see  p.  1151.  These  two  witnesses  desci'ibo 
the  mode  in  which  the  body  was  entangled  in  the  states  with  more  par 
ticularity  than  the  witnesses  for  the  prosecution.  The  judge,  in  his 
charge  to  the  jury,  treated  this  evidence  like  a  man  of  sense.  "  I  shall 
not  undertake,"  he  said,  "  to  give  youtho  particulars  of  their  evidence  ; 
but  they  tell  you  she  lay  on  her  right  side,  the  one  arm  up  even  with 
the  surface  of  the  water,  and  her  body  under  the  water  ;  but  some  of 
her  clothes  were  above  the  water  ;  particularly,  one  says,  the  ruffles  of 
her  left  arm  were  above  the  water.  You  have  heard,  also,  what  the 
doctors  and  surgeons  said,  on  the  one  side  and  the  other,  concerning  the 
swimming  and  sinking  of  dead  bodies  in  the  water  ;  but  lean  find  no 
certainty  in  it ;  and  I  leave  it  to  your  consideration."— 13  State  Trials, 
1188. 


121 

been,  of  course,  impossible.  But  the  case  must  ever 
remain  shrouded  in  the  darkest  mystery.  If  not 
guilty  of  what  the  law  defines  as  murder,  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  Cowper' s  conduct  was  the  immediate 
cause  of  the  death  of  the  unhappy  girl.  When  the 
servant  left  the  room  they  were  on  the  most  amica 
ble  terms.  This  is  fixed  by  the  evidence,  as  nearly 
as  possible,  at  half-past  ten  by  the  town-clock.  As 
the  clock  struck  eleven,  Cowper  entered  the  Glove 
and  Dolphin  Inn.*  In  that  short  half-hour  he  had 
either  incurred  the  guilt  of  murder,  or  by  his  un- 
kindness  had  driven  a  woman,  who  loved  him  with 
the  most  devoted  affection,  to  rush  uncalled  into  the 
presence  of  her  Maker.  Cowper,  if  not  a  murderer, 
which  we  think  he  was  not,  must,  at  any  rate,  have 
been  a  man  of  a  singularly  cold  and  unfeeling  dispo 
sition.  According  to  his  own  version  of  the  story, 
the  girl,  whom  he  had  left  only  a  few  moments 
before,  immediately  upon  his  quitting  her,  sought  a 
refuge  from  her  love,  her  sorrows,  and  her  shame, 
under  the  cold  waters  of  the  Priory  river.  On  the 
next  morning  he  heard  of  her  fate,  and  the  first 
thing  he  did  was  to  send  the  hostler  from  the  inn 
to  her  mother's  house  for  his  horse,  fearing  lest,  if 
the  coroner's  jury  should  bring  in  a  verdict  of  felo 
de  se^  the  animal  might,  being  found  in  her  stable, 
be  claimed  as  forfeited  to  the  lord  of  the  manor. 
From  first  to  last  there  is  not  one  word  of  tender 
ness  or  regret.  He  never  went  near  the  bereaved 
mother,  but  he  attended  the  coroner's  inquest,  gave 

*  Evidence  of  Elizabeth  Spurr,  13  State  Trials,  1177. 
PUZZLES— 11. 


122  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

his  evidence  with  the  utmost  coolness,  and  the  next 
day  proceeded  on  circuit  as  if  nothing  unusual  had 
taken  place.  Three  other  persons  were  indicted 
along  with  Cowper  as  the  accomplices  of  his  crime, 
but  against  them  there  was  not  even  the  shadow  of 
a  case.  The  jury,  after  deliberating  for  about  half 
an  hour,  acquitted  all  the  prisoners. 

The  relatives  of  Sarah  Stout  attempted  to  bring 
Cowper  to  a  second  trial  by  means  of  a  proceeding 
now  abolished,  entitled  "  The  Appeal  of  Murder." 
The  attempt  failed  through  the  influence  of  the 
Cowpers,  who  tampered  with  the  sheriff,  and  pro 
cured  the  destruction  of  the  writs.  The  sheriff  was 
fined  and  imprisoned  for  his  misconduct,  Holt,  the 
Chief  Justice,  severely  animadverting  on  the  foul 
play  which  had  been  employed  to  impede  the  course 
of  justice.*  Cowper  continued  to  ryractice  at  the 
bar,  and  was  at  last  raised  to  the  bench  of  the  Court 
of  Common  Pleas,  a  remarkable  instance  of  a  man 
who  had  held  up  his  hand  on  an  arraignment  for 
murder,  trying  others  for  the  same  offense.  He  is 
said  to  have  learned  a  lesson  of  caution  and  mercy 
from  his  own  experience,  and  to  have  been  remark 
able  for  both  those  qualities. 

One  might  have  supposed  that  poor  Sarah  Stout 
would  have  been  allowed  to  sleep  in  peace,  without 
having  her  name  revived  and  her  sad  story  made 
famous  more  than  a  century  and  a  half  after  her 
death.  But  such  was  not  to  be  her  fate.  The  oppor 
tunity  of  a  double  fling  at  Quakers  and  Tories  has 
been  too  great  a  temptation  for  Lord  Macaulay.  It 

*  Lord  Raymond,  i,  575,  B.  v.  Toler— 13  State  Trials,  1199. 


123 

was  a  right-and-left  shot  at  the  game  he  loved  best. 
Accordingly,  in  the  fifth  and  concluding  volume  of 
his  History,  in  that  part  which  we  are  told  by  the 
editor  he  had  left  "  fairly  transcribed  and  revised," 
we  find  four  pages  devoted  to  the  case  of  that  un 
happy  girl.  The  whole  passage  is  so  eloquent,  so 
picturesque,  so  ingenious  in  insinuation,  so  daring 
in  the  misrepresentation  of  facts  and  the  distortion 
of  evidence,  and  affords  so  good  an  epitome  of  the 
best  and  the  worst  qualities  of  the  author,  that  we 
give  it  entire : 

"  One  mournful  tale,  which  called  forth  the  strong 
est  feelings  of  the  contending  factions,  is  still  re 
membered  as  a  curious  part  of  the  history  of 
our  jurisprudence,  and  especially  of  the  history 
of  our  medical  jurisprudence.  No  Whig  member 
of  the  Lower  House,  with  the  single  exception  of 
Montague,  filled  a  larger  space  in  the  public  eye 
than  William  Cowper.  In  the  art  of  conciliating 
an  audience,  Cowper  was  pre-eminent.  His  grace 
ful  and  engaging  eloquence  cast  a  spell  on  juries ; 
and  the  Commons,  even  in  those  stormy  moments 
when  no  other  defender  of  the  administration  could 
obtain  a  hearing,  would  always  listen  to  him.  He 
represented  Hertford,  a  borough  in  which  his 
family  had  considerable  influence ;  but  there  was  a 
strong  Tory  minority  among  the  electors,  and  he 
had  not  won  his  seat  without  a  hard  fight,  which 
had  left  behind  it  many  bitter  recollections.  His 
younger  brother,  Spencer,  a  man  of  parts  and  learn 
ing,  was  fast  rising  into  practice  as  a  barrister  on 
the  home  circuit. 


124  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

"At  Hertford  resided  an  opulent  Quaker  family 
named  Stout.  A  pretty  young  woman  of  this 
family  had  lately  sunk  into  a  melancholy,  of  a  kind 
not  very  unusual  in  girls  of  strong  sensibility  and 
lively  imagination,  who  are  subject  to  the  restraints 
of  austere  religious  societies.  Her  dress,  her  looks, 
her  gestures,  indicated  the  disturbance  of  her  mind. 
She  sometimes  hinted  her  dislike  of  the  sect  to 
which  she  belonged.  She  complained  that  a  cant 
ing  waterman,  who  was  one  of  the  brotherhood, 
had  held  forth  against  her  at  a  meeting.  She 
threatened  to  go  beyond  sea,  to  throw  herself  out 
of  the  window,  to  drown  herself.  To  two  or  three 
of  her  associates  she  owned  that  she  was  in  love ; 
and  on  one  occasion  she  plainly  said  that  the  man 
whom  she  loved  was  one  whom  she  never  could 
marry.  In  fact,  the  object  of  her  fondness  was 
Spencer  Cowpcr,  who  was  already  married.  She 
at  length  wrote  to  him  in  language  which  she  never 
would  have  used  if  her  intellect  had  not  been  dis 
ordered.  He,  like  an  honest  man,  took  no  advan 
tage  of  her  unhappy  state  of  mind,  and  did  his  best 
to  avoid  her.  His  prudence  mortified  her  to  such 
a  degree  that  on  one  occasion  she  went  into  fits. 
It  was  necessary,  however,  that  he  should  see  her 
when  he  came  to  Hertford  at  the  spring  assizes  of 
1699,  for  he  had  been  intrusted  with  some  money 
which  was  due  to  her  on  mortgage.  He  called  on  her 
for  this  purpose  late  one  evening,  and  delivered  a 
bag  of  gold  to  her.  She  pressed  him  to  be  the 
guest  of  her  family,  but  he  excused  himself  and  re 
tired.  The  next  morning  she  was  found  dead 


125 

among  the  stakes  of  a  mill-clam  on  the  stream  called 
the  Priory  river.  That  she  had  destroyed  herself 
there  could  be  110  reasonable  doubt.  The  coroner's 
inquest  found  that  she  had  drowned  herself  while 
in  a  state  of  mental  derangement.  But  the  family 
was  unwilling  to  admit  that  she  had  shortened  her 
own  life,  and  looked  about  for  somebody  who  might 
be  accused  of  murdering  her.  The  last  person  who 
could  be  proved  to  have  been  in  her  company  was 
Spencer  Cowper.  It  chanced  that  two  attorneys 
and  a  scrivener,  who  had  come  down  from  town  to 
the  Hertford  assizes,  had  been  overheard,  on  that 
unhappy  night,  talking  over  their  wine  about  the 
charms  and  flirtations  of  the  handsome  Quaker 
girl,  in  the  light  way  in  which  such  subjects  are 
sometimes  discussed  even  at  the  circuit  tables  and 
mess  tables  of  our  more  refined  generation.  Some 

O 

wild  words,  susceptible  of  a  double  meaning,  were 
used  about  the  way  in  which  she  had  jilted  one 
lover,  and  the  way  in  which  another  lover  would 
punish  her  for  her  coquetry.  On  no  better  grounds 
than  these,  her  relations  imagined  that  Spencer 
Cowper  had,  with  the  assistance  of  these  three  re 
tainers  of  the  law,  strangled  her,  and  thrown  her 
corpse  into  the  water.  There  was  absolutely  no 
evidence  of  the  crime.  There  was  no  evidence 
that  any  one  of  the  accused  had  any  motive  to 
commit  such  a  crime ;  there  was  no  evidence  that 
Spencer  Cowper  had  any  connection  with  the  per 
sons  who  were  said  to  be  his  accomplices.  One  of 
those  persons,  indeed,  he  had  never  seen.  But  no 


126  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

story  is  too  absurd  to  be  imposed  on  minds  blinded 
by  religious  and  political  fanaticism. 

"The  Quakers  and  the  Tories  joined  to  raise  a 
formidable  clamor.  The  Quakers  had,  in  those 
days,  no  scruples  about  capital  punishments.  They 
would,  indeed,  as  Spencer  Cowper  said  bitterly,  but 
too  truly,  rather  send  four  innocent  men  to  the 
gallows  than  let  it  be  believed  that  one  who  had 
their  light  within  her  had  committed  suicide.  The 
Tories  exulted  in  the  prospect  of  winning  two  seats 
from  the  Whigs.  The  whole  kingdom  was  divided 
between  Stouts  and  Cowpers.  At  the  summer 
assizes  Hertford  was  crowded  with  anxious  faces 
from  London,  and  from  parts  of  England  more  dis 
tant  than  London.  The  prosecution  was  conducted 
with  a  malignity  and  unfairness  which  to  us  seem 
almost  incredible ;  and,  unfortunately,  the  dullest 
and  most  ignorant  judge  of  the  twelve  was  on  the 
bench.  Cowper  defended  himself  and  those  who 
were  said  to  be  his  accomplices  with  admirable 
ability  and  self-possession.  His  brother,  much  more 
distressed  than  himself,  sat  near  him  through  the 
long  agony  of  that  day.  The  case  against  the 
prisoners  rested  chiefly  on  the  vulgar  error  that  a 
human  body  found,  as  this  girl's  body  had  been 
found,  floating  in  water,  must  have  been  thrown 
into  the  water  while  still  alive.  To  prove  this  doc 
trine,  the  counsel  for  the  Crown  called  medical 
practitioners,  of  whom  nothing  is  now  knoAvn  ex 
cept  that  some  of  them  had  been  active  against  the 
Whigs  at  Hertford  elections.  To  confirm  the 
evidence  of  these  gentlemen,  two  or  three  sailors 


SPEXCER  COWPER'S  CASE.  127 

were  put  into  the  witness-box.  On  the  other  side 
appeared  an  array  of  men  of  science  whose  names 
are  still  remembered.  Among  them  was  William 
Cowper — not  a  kinsman  of  the  defendant,  but  the 
most  celebrated  anatomist  that  England  had  then 
produced.  He  was,  indeed,  the  founder  of  a  dynasty 
illustrious  in  the  history  of  science ;  for  he  was  the 
teacher  of  William  Cheselden,  and  William  Chesel- 
den  was  the  teacher  of  John  Hunter.  On  the  same 
side  appeared  Samuel  Garth,  who,  among  the  physi 
cians  of  the  capital,  had  no  rival  except  Radcliffe, 
and  Hans  Sloane,  the  founder  of  the  magnificent 
museum  which  is  one  of  the  glories  of  our  country. 
The  attempt  of  the  prosecutors  to  make  the  super 
stitions  of  the  forecastle  evidence,  for  the  purpose 
of  taking  away  the  lives  of  men,  was  treated  by 
these  philosophers  with  just  disdain.  The  stupid 
judge  asked  Garth  what  he  could  say  in  answer  to 
the  testimony  of  the  seamen.  'My  lord,'  replied 
Garth,  '  I  say  that  they  are  mistaken.  .  I  will  find 
seamen  in  abundance  to  swear  that  they  have  known 
whistling  raise  the  wind.'  The  jury  found  the 
prisoners  not  guilty,  and  the  report  carried  back  to 
London  by  persons  who  had  been  present  at  the 
trial  was,  that  everybody  applauded  the  verdict, 
and  that  even  the  Stouts  seemed  to  be  convinced 
of  their  error.  It  is  certain,  however,  that  the 
malevolence  of  the  defeated  party  soon  revived  in 
all  its  energy.  The  lives  of  the  four  men  who  had 
just  been  absolved  were  again  attacked  by  means 
of  the  most  absurd  and  odious  proceeding  known 
to  our  old  law,  the  appeal  of  murder.  This  attack, 


128  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

too,  failed.  Every  artifice  of  chicane  was  at  length 
exhausted ;  and  nothing  was  left  to  the  disappointed 
sect  and  the  disappointed  faction  except  to  calum 
niate  those  whom  it  had  been  found  impossible  to 
murder.  In  a  succession  of  libels,  Spencer  Cowper 
was  held  up  to  the  execration  of  the  public.  But 
the  public  did  him  justice.  He  rose  to  high  emi 
nence  in  his  profession;  he  at  length  took  his  seat, 
with  general  applause,  on  the  judicial  bench,  and 
there  distinguished  himself  by  the  humanity  which 
he  never  failed  to  show  to  unhappy  men  who  stood, 
as  he  had  stood,  at  the  bar.  Many  who  seldom 
trouble  themselves  about  pedigrees  may  be  interest 
ed  by  learning  that  he  was  the  grandfather  of  that 
excellent  man  and  excellent  poet,  William  Co \vper, 
whose  writings  have  long  been  peculiarly  loved  and 
prized  by  the  members  of  the  religious  community 
which,  under  a  strong  delusion,  sought  to  slay  his 
innocent  progenitor.* 

"  Though  Spencer  Cowper  had  escaped  with  life 
and  honor,  the  Tories  had  carried  their  point.  They 
hail  secured  against  the  next  election  the  support  of 
the  Quakers  of  Hertford ;  and  the  consequence  was, 
that  the  borough  was  lost  to  the  family  and  to  the 
party  which  had  lately  predominated  there." 

Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  Lord  Macaulay  lias 

*"  It  is  curious  that  all  Cowper's  biographers  with  whom  I  am  ac 
quainted — Hayley,  Southey,  Grimshawe,  Chalmers — mention  the  judge, 
the  common  ancestor  of  the  p  jet,  of  his  first  love,  Theodora  Cowper, 
and  of  Lady  Hesketh,  but  that  none  of  these  biographers  makes  the 
faintest  allusion  to  the  Hertford  trial,  the  most  remarkable  event  in  the 
history  of  the  family ;  nor  do  I  believe  that  any  allusion  to  that  trial 
can  be  found  in  any  of  the  poet's  numerous  letters." 


CASE.  129 

given  so  large  a  space  to  this  case,  lie  has  read  it 
with  more  than  ordinary  carelessness.     He    says: 
"  The  case  against  the  prisoner  rested  chiefly  on  the 
vulgar  error  that  a  human  body  found,  as  this  poor 
girl's  body  had  been  found,  floating  in  the  water,  must 
have  been  thrown  into  the  water  while  still  alive"  * 
The    argument  was  exactly  the  reverse.     It  was 
urged  that  the  fact  of  her  body  floating  proved  that 
she  was  thrown  into  the  water  after  she  was  dead; 
and  it  was  sought  to  be  inferred  that  she  had  been 
strangled — that  if,  as  was  argued  on  behalf  of  the 
prisoner,  she  had  drowned  herself,  her  body  would 
have  been  filled  with  water,  and  would  have  sunk. 
The  evidence  as  to  whether  the  body  did  in  fact 
float  or  sink,  was,  as  we  have  seen,  contradictory. 
The  post  mortem  examination  was  delayed  so  long 
that  the  medical  testimony  had  really  no  foundation 
of  facts  to  rest  upon.     At  the  trial  an  attempt  was 
made,  on  the  part  of  the  prisoner,  to   establish  the 
insanity  of  the  girl ;  but  nothing  more  was  proved 
than  might  be  easily  shown  to  have  occurred  in  the 
case  of  any  love-sick  girl  who  was,  or  fancied  her 
self,  the  victim  of   an  unrequited  passion.     Lord 
Macaulay's  treatment  of  this  evidence  is  amusing. 
Three  of  the  circumstances  en  which  he  relies   to 
prove  her  insanity  are :    1st,  That  "  she  sometimes 
hinted  a  dislike  of  the  sect  to  which  she  belonged," 
which  is  rather  an  odd  proof  of  insanity  in  the 
mouth   of  Lord  Macaulay;   2d,   That  "she   com 
plained  that  a  canting  waterman,  who  was  one  of 
the  brethren,  had  h<?ld  forth  against  her  at  a  meet- 

*Vol.  v,  238. 


130  JUDICIAL    riTZZLES. 

ing  "  (which  happened  to  be  true,  and  seems  to  bo 
a  tolerably  reasonable  ground  of  annoyance)  ;  and, 
3d,  That  "  to  two  or  three  of  her  associates  she 
owned  she  was  in  love."  (  Alas  for  all  young  ladies 
from  sixteen  upwards,  in  white  satin,  and  their  con 
fidantes  in  white  linen,  if  this  is  to  be  taken  as  a 
proof  of  insanity ! )  But  when  Lord  Macaulay 
comes  to  the  facts  connected  with  Cowper's  Avrit- 
ing  to  announce  his  intention  of  staying  at  the 
house,  his  dining  there,  his  return  in  the  evening, 
and  his  mysterous  disappearance  at  night  simul 
taneously  with  the  girl,  he  condenses  them  into  the 
following  words :  "  He,  like  an  honest  man,  took  no 
advantage  of  her  unhappy  state  of  mind,  and  did  his 
best  to  avoid  her  "  (it  was,  to  say  the  least,  an  odd 
mode  of  avoiding  her  that  he  adopted).  "It  was 
necessary,  however,  that  he  should  see  her  when  lie 
came  to  Hertford  at  the  spring  assizes  of  1099, 
for  he  had  been  intrusted  with  some  money 
which  was  due  to  her  on  mortgage.  He  called  on 
her,  for  this  purpose,  late  one  evening,  and  de 
livered  a  bag  of  gold  to  her."  (The  "  bag  "  exists 
only  in  Lord  Macaulay's  imagination — the  "  gold  " 
was  the  petty  sum  of  six  pounds  and  a  few  odd 
shillings,  which  Cowper  had  received  for  her  as  in 
terest  on  a  sum  of  £200  which  he  had  placed  out  on 
mortgage  on  her  behalf,  and  the  payment  of  which 
certainly  did  not  make  it  necessary  that  he  should 
be  with  her  from  two  till  four,  and  again  from  nine 
till  half-past  ten  at  night.)  "  She  pressed  him,"  adds 
Lord  Macaulay,  "  to  be  the  guest  of  the  family,  but 
he  excused  himself  and  retired" 


SPENCER  COWPER'S  CASE.  131 

It  is  worth  while,  as  a  matter  of  philological  curi 
osity,  to  enumerate  over  again  the  facts  which  one 
of  the  greatest  masters  of  the  English  language  can 
compress  into  the  phrase — "  he  excused  himself  and 
retired."  Cowper  went  to  the  house  on  his  arrival 
in  the  town,  dined  there  with  the  family,  left  at  four, 
returned  at  nine,  supped,  wrote  his  letters,  was 
present  whilst  his  bed  and  his  bedroom  fire  were 
ordered  and  the  maid  was  sent  up  to  warm  his  bed ; 
sat  alone  until  half-past  ten  o'clock  at  night  with  a 
girl  who  he  knew  was  violently  in  love  with  him, 
who  had  been  in  the  habit  of  addressing  the  most 
passionate  letters  to  him  under  a  feigned  name,  and 
then  —  "  abiit — excessit — evasit — erupit"  His  de 
parture  only  announced  by  the  slamming-to  of  the 
street-door.  This  is  Lord's  Macaulay's  notion  of 
"  excusing  himself  and  retiring."  He  and  the  girl 
disappeared  together.  In  the  morning  he  is  at  other 
lodgings  in  the  town,  and  she  a  corpse  in  the  mill- 
dam. 

For  the  charge  that  Lord  Macaulay  makes  that 
"  the  prosecution  was  conducted  with  a  malignity 
and  unfairness  which  to  us  seem  almost  incredible," 
we  cannot  discover  the  slightest  ground.  Certainly 
none  is  to  be  found  in  the  very  ample  and  detailed 
report  in  the  "  State  Trials."  Indeed,  a  far  greater 
latitude  was  allowed  to  the  prisoner  in  his  defense 
than  would  be  permitted  at  the  present  day.  What 
authority  Lord  Macaulay  may  have  had  for  describ 
ing  Hatsell,  who  presided  at  the  trial,  as  "the 
dullest  and  most  ignorant  judge  of  the  twelve,"  we 
know  not.  He  seems  to  have  tried  the  case  with 


132  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

strict  impartiality  and  very  fair  ability,  and  his 
charge  to  the  jury  was  decidedly  in  favor  of  the 
prisoners. 

We  have  frequently  had  occasion  to  remark  upon 
the  caution  which  ought  to  be  observed  before  rely 
ing  upon  Lord  Macaulay's  marks  of  quotation.  An 
amusing  instance  of  this  occurs  in  the  passage  we 
have  just  cited.  A  sailor  of  the  name  of  Clement 
deponed  that  he  had  frequently  observed  that  when 
a  corpse  was  thrown  into  the  sea  it  floated ;  where 
as,  if  a  man  fell  into  the  water  and  was  drowned, 
his  body  sank  as  soon  as  life  was  extinct.  In  con 
firmation  of  this,  he  cited  his  own  experience  at  the 
fight  off  Beachy  Head,  where  the  bodies  of  the  men 
who  were  killed  floated  about ;  and  at  a  shipwreck, 
where  between  five  and  six  hundred  men  were 
drowned,  whose  bodies  sank.  This  evidence  was 
curious,  and  if  it  had  been  proved  whether  Sarah 
Stout's  body  floated  or  sank,  would  have  been  val 
uable.  The  judge  felt,  no  doubt,  that  it  was  so ; 
and  when  Garth  swore  that  "  it  was  impossible  the 
body  should  have  floated,"  and  boldly  stated  his  be 
lief  that  "  all  dead  bodies  fall  to  the  bottom  unless 
they  be  prevented  by  some  extraordinary  tumor,"  ^ 
he  directed  his  attention  to  the  evidence  which  had 
been  given,  and  asked  him  "  what  he  said  as  to  the 
sinking  of  dead  bodies  in  water  ?  "  Garth  replied 
that,  "  if  a  strangled  body  be  thrown  into  the  water, 
the  lungs  being  filled  with  air,  and  a  cord  left  about 
the  neck,  it  was  possible  it  might  float,  because  of 

*  13  State  Trials,  1157. 


133 

the  included  air,  as  a  bladder  would."  Upon  this 
the  judge  called  his  attention  to  the  question  as  fol 
lows: 

"J3aro?i  Hatsell. — But  you  do  not  observe  my 
question :  the  seamen  said  that  those  that  die  at  sea 
and  are  thrown  overboard,  if  you  do  not  tie  a  weight 
to  them,  they  will  not  sink — what  do  you  say  to 
that? 

"Dr.  Garth. — My  lord,  no  doubt  in  this  thing 
they  are  mistaken.  The  seamen  are  a  superstitious 
people :  they  fancy  that  whistling  at  sea  will  occa 
sion  a  tempest.  I  must  confess  I  have  never  seen 
anybody  thrown  overboard ;  but  I  have  tried  some 
experiments  on  other  dead  animals,  and  they  will 
certainly  sink ;  we  have  tried  them  since  we  came 
hither."  * 

Now  in  this,  we  confess,  it  seems  to  us  that  the 
judge  appears  to  greater  advantage  than  the  physi 
cian.  Garth  was  evidently  desirous  to  evade  the 
question,  and  he  attempted  to  do  so  by  a  sneer. 
The  superstition  of  the  sailors  had  nothing  to  do 
with  the  question  whether  a  man  killed  in  battle 
and  falling  into  the  water  floats  or  sinks.  Garth 
was  compelled  to  admit  that  he  had  no  experience 
on  the  subject.  He  said,  and  said  truly,  that  "the 
object  of  tying  weights  to  a  body  is  to  prevent  it 
from  floating  at  all,  which  otherwise  would  happen 
in  some  few  days."  t  The  well-known  instance  of 
the  floating  of  the  body  of  Caracciolo,  notwithstand 
ing  the  weights  which  were  attached  to  his  feet, 

*  State  Trials,  1158.  t  Ibid. 

PUZZLES— 1  a. 


134  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES 

will  occur  at  once  to  the  mind  of  the  reader.  The 
inquiry  of  the  judge  was  pertinent  to  the  evidence, 
and  the  reply  might  have  been  material  to  the  ques 
tion  of  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  the  prisoner.  Lord 
Macaulay  disposes  of  both  question  and  answer  in 
the  following  words :  "  The  stupid  judge  asked 
Garth  what  he  could  say  in  answer  to  the  testimony 
of  the  seamen.  '  My  lord,'  replied  Garth,  c  I  say 
that  they  are  mistaken.  I  Avill  find  seamen  in 
abundance  to  swear  that  they  have  known  whistling 
raise  the  wind.'  "  There  was  no  stupidity  that  we 
can  discover  in  the  question,  and  the  answer  is  mis 
quoted. 

Lord  Macaulay,  however,  does  not  trouble  him 
self  with  the  facts  of  the  case.  He  finds  for  once 
the  Quakers  and  the  Tories  united,  (or  rather,  we 
ought  to  say,  he  assumes  their  union;  for  from 
first  to  last  in  the  trial  there  is  not  a  particle  of  evi 
dence  that  political  feeling  intervened)  and  he  in 
fers  that  they  could  only  be  united  for  the  purpose 
of  committing  a  judicial  murder;  that  the  object  of 
the  Quakers  was  to  "  send  four  innocent  men  to  the 
gallows  rather  than  let  it  be  believed  that  one  who 
had  their  light  within  her  had  committed  suicide,"  * 
and  that  the  Tories  were  urged  on  to  the  same 
atrocity  by  "the  prospect  of  winning  two  seats 
from  the  Whigs."  Lord  Macaulay  makes  no  ac 
count  of  the  feelings  that  would  be  awakened 
amongst  relations,  friends,  and  neighbors,  by  the 
sudden  and  violent  death  of  a  young  and  beautiful 
girl,  who,  whether  murdered  or  not,  had  unques- 

*  Vol.  v,  237. 


135 

tionably  been  cruelly  trifled  with  by  a  man  who,  if 
not  directly,  was  at  any  rate  indirectly  the  cause  of 
her  death.  "Religious  and  political  fanaticism" 
are  motives  the  power  of  which  Lord  Macaulay 
was  certainly  not  likely  to  underrate.  Yet  it  might 
have  been  supposed  that  the  religion  of  Sarah  Stout 
was  one  which  he  would  have  been  disposed  to 
treat,  if  not  with  respect,  at  least  with  tenderness, 
however  mistaken  his  more  mature  convictions  might 
lead  him  to  consider  it  to  be. 

"We  have  ourselves  little  sympathy  with  the  pe 
culiar  tenets  and  habits  of  the  Quakers.  It  is  diffi 
cult  for  any  one  to  write  with  perfect  justice  about 
that  very  singular  sect.  A  body  of  Christians  who 
make  it  part  of  their  religion  to  observe  the  strict 
est  rules  of  grammar  in  the  use  of  the  singular  and 
plural  of  the  personal  pronouns,  whilst  they  habit 
ually  violate  them  as  to  the  nominative  and  accusa 
tive  ;  whose  consciences  are  tender  as  to  buttons ; 
who  hold  gay  colors  to  be  "  unfriendly,"  whilst  they 
delight  in  the  richest  and  most  costly  fabrics ;  who 
shrink  from  the  hypocrisy  of  addressing  a  stranger 
as  "  Dear  Sir,"  while  they  have  no  scruple  in  call 
ing  the  man  they  most  despise  "  Respected  Friend," 
merely  commit  amusing  eccentricities.  The  evil  is 
much  more  serious  when  they  proscribe  all  those 
arts  which  tend  most  to  brighten  our  course  through 

O  O 

life.  Literature,  except  of  the  most  dreary  kind,  is 
prohibited  to  strict  Friends.  We  once  made  a 
passing  allusion  to  Mr.  Jonathan  Oldbuck,  in  conver 
sation  with  one  of  the  most  eminent  Quakers  of  the 
day,  a  member  of  a  learned  profession,  and  discov- 


136  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

cred,  to  our  astonishment,  that  he  was  in  total  igno 
rance  of  the  "  Waverly  Novels."  Another  vener 
able  and  strict  Friend,  seeing  a  volume  lettered 
"  Horatii  Opera "  on  the  table  of  one  of  his  laxer 
brethren,  shook  his  head  gravely,  and  said,  "  Thou 
knowest,  friend,  that  we  have  a  testimony  against 
all  operas."  Nothing  can  be  conceived  more  deso 
late  than  a  pure  Quaker  library :  Barclay's  "Apolo 
gy"  and  Baxter's  "Saint's  Rest,"  Penn's  "No 
Cross,  no  Crown,"  and  George  Fox's  "  Journal " — 
perhaps,  by  extraordinary  good  fortune,  "  Paradise 
Lost "  and  "  The  Task  " — all  excellent  in  their  way, 
but  not  exactly  the  books  to  while  away  a  tedious 
hour ;  and  one  looks  in  vain  for  Shakespeare  and 
Scott,  for  Pope  or  Fielding.  Painting  and  music 
share  the  same  fate.  Now  and  then,  however,  hap 
pily,  the  old  Adam  is  too  strong,  and  such  arts  are 
cultivated  either  "  clandecently,"  as  Mawworrn 
says,  or  in  open  defiance  of  the  yearly  meeting. 
Gastronomy  is  the  only  one  of  the  liberal  arts  that 
nourishes  unrestrained.  The  Quakers  arc  a  hos 
pitable  people;  their  dinners  are  excellent  and 
their  wines  super-excellent.  The  whitest  linen,  the 
most  brilliant  silver,  and  the  most  sparkling  glass, 
are  to  be  found  at  their  tables.  They  indulge, 
not  to  excess,  but  silently  and  thankfully,  in  these 
good  things,  and  a  certain  serious  rotundity  has  in 
consequence  become  hereditary  amongst  them.  The 
late  Lord  Macaulay  himself  inherited  something  of 
this  formation,  modified,  however,  by  the  admixture 
which  his  blood  had  received  from  the  lean  and 
hungry  Celts  to  whom  he  owed  his  Highland  name. 


SPEXCER  COWPER'S  CASE.  137 

This  formation  is  no  doubt  unfavorable  to  great 
personal  activity ;  but  personal  activity  is  of  little 
import  to  a  Quaker.  Field  sports,  and  their  at 
tendant  festivities  of  all  kinds,  are  prohibited.  A 
Quaker  thinks  of  a  hunt-ball  as  if  it  were  a  war 
dance  of  wild  Indians.  But  here,  again,  nature  will 
sometimes  assert  her  rights.  We  have  known  a 
Quaker  to  be  an  excellent  judge  of  a  horse,  and 
some  of  the  best  heavy  weights  across  the  Pytchly 
and  Warwickshire  countries  have  been  of  pure 
Quaker  blood.  We  once  heard  of  a  Quaker  horse- 
dealer.  But  of  all  strange  sights,  a  Quaker  child  is 
the  strangest.  To  find  a  little  curly-headed  darling 
of  four  or  five  years  old,  who,  instead  of  climbing 
on  one's  knee,  and  insisting  vociferously  on  a  game 
at  romps  or  a  fairy  story  before  it  will  go  to  bed, 
walks  off  demurely  with  a  "  Fare  thee  well,  friend," 
is  enough  to  make  one's  hair  stand  on  end. 

Early  as  this  discipline  begins,  it  is  pleasant  to 
find  that  nature  is  sometimes  too  strong  for  it.  We 
have  lately  met  with  a  narrative  (published  within 
the  last  six  months)  of  a  Quaker  journey  in  Amer 
ica,  writ  by  one  William  Tallack,  a  Friend,  who,  if 
we  are  to  judge  of  him  by  his  book,  must  be  dry 
enough  to  satisfy  the  most  nervous  dread  of  any 
approach  to  that  humidity  which  constitutes  a  "  wet 
Quaker  " — a  being  peculiarly  abhorrent  to  consist 
ent  Friends.  After  devoting  many  pages  to  bon 
nets  with  round  crowns,  and  bonnets  with  square 
crowns,  buttons  and  straps,  knee  shorts,  and  "  slit 
collars,"  and  those  still  more  execrable  abomina 
tions,  "turned-down  collars  with  slits  in  them" 


138  JUDICIAL    PUZZLES. 

(though,  we  confess,  without  making  it  by  any 
means  clear  to  one  of  the  profane  what  constitutes 
a  slit  collar)  ;  after  recording  how  one  Elias  Hicks 
"felt  that  his  conscience  required  the  relinquish- 
ment  of  unnecessary  buttons  to  his  coat,"  and  com 
pelled  him  to  "  turn  up  a  cushion  in  the  meeting, 
and  to  seat  himself  011  the  hard  board,"  *  he  gives 
some  extracts  from  the  records  of  the  Quakers' 
meeting,  amongst  which  it  is  really  refreshing  to 
meet  the  passions  and  the  foibles  of  poor  human 
nature. 

Here  is  the  confession  of  a  warm-tempered 
Friend,  who  probably  would  have  been  all  tho  bet 
ter  for  the  cooling  discipline  he  administered  to  his 
neighbor,  even  at  the  risk  of  the  dreaded  conse 
quence  of  becoming  "  wet." 

"Whereas,  I  contended  with  my  neighbor,W.  S., 
for  what  I  apprehended  to  be  my  right,  by  endeav 
oring  to  turn  a  certain  stream  of  water  into  its  natu 
ral  course,  till  it  rose  to  a  personal  difference,  in 
which  dispute  I  gave  way  to  warmth  of  temper  so  far 
as  to  put  my  friend  W.  into  the  pond;  for  which 
action  of  mine,  being  contrary  to  the  good  order  of 
Friends,  I  am  sorry,  and  desire,  through  divine  as 
sistance,  *to  live  in  unity  with  him  for  the  future."  f 

*It  is  to  be  hoped  that  Elias  Hicks  never  became  subject  to  tho  incon 
venient  delusion  recorded  by  Mclauder  of  an  unhappy  man,  "qui  opinas 
tus  cst,  ex  vitro  sibi  constatas  clunes,  sic  ut  omnia  sua  negotia  p.tque 
actioues  stando  perficeret,  inetucns,  uc,  si  in  sedilo  so  inclinaret,  iiate- 
confringeret,  ac  vitri  fragmcnta  hinc  iiidc  dissilirent."— Melan.,  Joco- 
Scria,  433. 

+  Friendly  Sketches  in  America,  by  William  Tallack. 


SPENCER  COWPER'S  CASE.  139 

But  it  is  not  to  wrath  alone  that  Friends  some 
times  give  way.  A  gentler  passion  occasionally 
hurries  fchem  beyond  the  bounds  of  what  is  strictly 
"  friendly." 

"  Whereas,  I  was  too  forward  and  hasty  in  making 
suit  to  a  young  woman  after  the  death  of  my  wife, 
haying  made  some  proceedings  that  way  in  less 
than  four  months,  which  I  am  now  sensible  was 
wrong.  As  witness  my  hand,  R.  H."  * 

Even  that  peaceful  union  which  we  are  bound  to 
suppose  a  Quaker  marriage  to  be  (by  the  way,  what 
a  very  odd  proceeding  a  Quaker  courtship  must  be ! 
how  do  they  get  married  at  all  ?)  is  sometimes  dis 
turbed  by  the  sinful  passions  of  humanity.  Thus 
we  find  that  the  "  Concord  preparation-meeting  com 
plains  of  J.  P.  S.  for  breach  of  his  marriage  cove 
nants  in  refusing  to  live  with  his  wife,  as  a  faithful 
husband  ought  to  do." 

Nor  does  the  traveler  fail  to  observe  the  hospital 
ity  which  we  have  already  noticed  as  so  commenda 
ble  amongst  Friends,  but  which  is  sometimes  carried 
to  an  inconvenient  excess. 

"At  meals,"  he  says,  "  there  is  generally  several 
times  the  quantity  of  food  placed  upon  the  table 
which  could  possibly  be  eaten  by  the  heartiest  appe 
tites  of  those  present,  and  plates  are  piled  with  so 
much  that  they  are  seldom  empty  at  the  end  of  the 
meal.  *  *  It  is  usual  to  help  a  visitor  to  two  01 
three  slices  of  pie  at  a  time." 

*  Friendly  Sketches  in  America,  195. 


140  JUDICIAL   PUZZLES. 

Times  have  certainly  changed  amongst  the  Quak 
ers  since 

«* 

"  Brother  Green  was  feasted 
With  a  spiritual  collation 
By  our  frugal  mayor, 
Who  can  dine  with  a  prayer, 
And  sup  with  an  exhortation." 

Still  it  must  be  admitted  by  all  candid  men  that 
Quakerism  has  its  estimable  as  well  as  its  ridiculous 
side,  and  that  a  sect  which  can  number  amongst  its 
followers  such  men  as  William  Penn,  Elwood,  the 
friend  of  Milton,  Barclay,  Clarkson,  Reynolds,  the 
philanthropist,  and  Dalton,  the  philosopher,  deserves 
a  treatment  far  different  from  that  which  it  has  re 
ceived  from  Lord  Macaulay.  To  assert,  without 
one  particle  of  evidence  to  support  the  statement, 
that  the  Quakers  deliberately  planned  a  judicial 
murder  to  conceal  the  fact  that  one  of  their  body 
had  committed  suicide,  is  just  as  monstrous  as  to 
impute  to  the  Tories  that  they  were  accomplices  in 
the  crime.  This  unscrupulous  treatment  of  facts, 
and  equally  unscrupulous  suggestion  of  motives,  is 
one  of  the  most  dangerous  weapons  a  combatant 
can  wrield.  No  instrument  of  attack  is  so  easily 
turned  against  the  party  making  use  of  it.  If  a 
historian  could  be  found  equally  unscrupulous  as 
Lord  Macaulay,  and  as  deeply  imbued  with  opposite 
prejudices,  nothing  would  be  easier  than  to  para 
phrase  his  account  of  Spencer  Cowper's  trial  almost 
in  his  own  words,  and  with  far  less  departure  from 
the  facts.  The  narrative  would  then  assume  some 
thing  of  the  following  form :  "At  Hertford  resided 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 


SPENCER  COAVPER^S^HLIMI.  r  141 

a  respectable  Quaker  family  named  Stout.     One 
daughter,  a  beautiful  girl  of  strong  sensibility  and 
lively  imagination,  formed  a  deep  attachment  to 
Spencer  Cowper.     He  trifled  with  her  affections, 
took  every  advantage  of  her  unhappy  state  of  mind, 
and  then  cast  her  off  and  married  another  woman. 
Her  almost  frantic  attachment  still  continued.     She 
wrote  letters  to  him  breathing  the  deepest  passion. 
He  paraded  them  before  his  brother  (who  was  a 
man  of  notoriously  loose  habits)  and  his  other  profli 
gate  associates.     When  he  came  to  the  Hertford 
spring  assizes  in  1699,  he  went  direct  to  her  moth 
er's  house.     He  dined  and  supped  there  ;  he  spent 
the  evening  in  affectionate  conversation  with  the 
girl  he  had  betrayed.     His  bed  was  prepared  in  the 
house,  and  the  servant-girl  was  sent  up  to  warm  it. 
Spencer  Cowper  and  Sarah  Stout  were  left  together 
in  the  parlor  —  from  that  moment   she  was  never 
seen  alive.     They  left  the  house  together  at  half- 
past  ten  at  night,  and  in  the  morning  her  corpse 
was  discovered  in  the  mill-dam.     It  would  perhaps 
be  going  too  far  to  assert  that  Cowper  was  certainly 
her  murderer,  but  the  case  was  one  of  the  darkest 
suspicion.     He  was  placed  upon  his  trial  for  murder, 
but  to  anticipate  a  conviction  would  have  been  ab 
surd.     The  law  closed  the  mouth  of  the  principal 
witness,  the  mother  of  the  girl,  for  she  was  a  Quaker, 
and  could  not  take  an  oath.     The  judge,  a  friend  of 
the  Cowpers,  indulged  the  prisoner  in  a  degree  of 
license  in  his   defense  which  in   the  present  day 
would  not  be  tolerated.     The  Cowpers  were  power 
ful  in  Hertford,  which  was  represented  in  Parlia- 


142  JUDICIAL   PUZZLES. 

ment  by  the  father  and  the  brother  of  the  prisoner. 
Every  artifice  that  could  influence  the  minds  of  the 
jury  against  Quakers  and  Tories  was  resorted  to. 
Every  prejudice  of  religious  or  political  fanaticism 
against  an  unpopular  sect  and  an  obnoxious  party 
was  appealed  to.  The  consequence  was  that  Cow- 
per  was  acquitted.  An  attempt  was  made  to  place 
him  on  his  trial  a  second  time  by  means  of  an  '  ap 
peal  of  murder,'  a  proceeding  which  Lord  Holt,  in 
this  very  case,  designated  as  '  a  noble  badge  of  the 
liberties  of  an  Englishman.'  But  here  again  the  in 
fluence  of  the  powerful  family  of  the  Cowpers  par 
alyzed  the  arm  of  justice.  The  sheriff  was  tam 
pered  with  and  the  writ  destroyed.  The  sheriff 
paid  the  penalty  of  his  misconduct  by  imprisonment 
and  fine,  and  was  subjected  to  a  severe  rebuke  from 
Lord  Holt.  The  Cowpers  triumphed,  but  their  ex 
ultation  was  short.  Outraged  humanity  vindicated 
its  rights.  The  press  teemed  with  indignant  pam- 
plets,  and  at  the  next  election  both  the  Cowpers 
were  ignominiously  ejected  from  the  representation 
of  their  native  town."  ^ 

Such  is  the  mode  in  which  this  subject  may  be 
treated,  when,  as  in  the  old  fable,  the  lion  turns 
sculptor.  It  is  far  nearer  the  truth  than  Lord 
Macaulay's  own.  To  gratify  his  political  and 
family  aversions,  Lord  Macaulay  lias  raked  up  the 

*  "  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  remind  any  sudent  of  English  history  that 
Spencer  Cowper  and  Sarah  Stout  are  the  Mosco  and  Zara  of  '  The  New 
Atlantis.'  See  Vol.  i,  106,  174,  for  a  very  fwll  account  of  this  unhappy 
transaction.  Lord  Macaulay,  who  has  drawn  largely  upon  the  stores  of 
this  work  in  other  instances,  appears  to  have  overlooked  the;  fact  that 
this  narrative  was  to  be  found  in  the  pages  of  a  contemporary  historian, 
whose  character  for  accuracy  is  second  only  to  his  own." 


SPEXCER  COWPER'S  CASE.  143 

ashes  of  poor  Sarah  Stout,  and  has  revived  a  very 
discreditable  incident  in  the  history  of  a  very 
eminent  family.  He  expresses  surprise  that  none 
of  the  biographers  of  the  poet  Cowper  should  have 
alluded  to  this  adventure  of  his  grandfather.  An 
old  proverb  might  have  told  him  that  there  are 
certain  families  amongst  whom  it  is  a  breach  of 
good  manners  to  make  any  mention  of  "hemp." 
We  think  it  was  Quin  who  once  introduced  Foote 
to  a  company  as  "  a  gentleman  whose  father  was 
hanged  for  murdering  his  uncle."  Polite  and  pious 
biographers,  such  as  Hayley  and  Southey,  generally 
avoid  all  allusion  to  such  disagreeable  subjects. 
Lord  Macaulay  is  puzzled  by  what  appears  to  him 
unnecessary  delicacy,  and  has  made  the  whole 
scandalous  story  (for  scandalous  it  must  remain, 
even  taking  the  most  favorable  view)  as  notorious 
as  possible.  Where  one  reader  dives  into  the 
"  State  Trials,"  a  thousand  will  read  Lord  Macaulay's 
fifth  volume ;  and  all  the  world  now  has  the  advan 
tage  of  knowing  that  the  grandfather  of  "that 
excellent  man,  and  excellent  poet,"  as  Lord  Macau- 
lay  justly  calls  William  Cowper,  behaved  extremely 
ill  to  a  pretty  Quaker  girl,  and  htid  a  narrow  escape 
from  being  hanged  for  murdering  her. 


INDEX. 


A. 

Abduction— of  female,  10. 

motives  for,  15. 

of  W.  Harrison,  45. 

and  murder  of  boy,  30. 
Acquittal—effect  of,  104. 

by  verdict,  122. 

Admission — of  disreputable  character,  25. 
Alibi— plea  of,  18,  19. 

controverting  evidence  of,  34. 

creating  evidence  of,  120. 
Altham,  Lord — memoir  of,  69, 
Auglesea,  Lord — account  of,  71. 
.Annesley — case  of,  69. 

James,  account  of,  70. 

Richard,  attempt  at  abduction  by,  83. 

abduction  of  nephew,  84. 
Appeal  of  murder— proceedings  abolished,  122. 

how  esteemed  by  Lord  Holt,  142. 
Arrest  on  suspicion — 52,  61. 
Assertions  of  innocence— on. -scaffold,  value  of,  99. 

B. 

Bennett — evidence  of,  14. 

Breadheid,  Janet— executed  for  witchcraft,  57. 

PTZZLES— 13.  [  145  1 


146  INDEX. 

Brodie,  Margaret — witchcraft  of,  54, 

attempt  at  assassination,  55. 
Bush — protector  of  Jamea  Annesley,  82. 

o. 

Calplmrnius,  Flaccus — on  voluntary  confession,  67, 

Campden,  Lady — 39. 

Campden  Wonder — 37. 

Canning,  Elizabeth — case  of,  9. 

Capital  punishment — innocent  victim  of,  S3, 

scruples  of  Quakers,  126. 

Chitty,  Alderman — examination  before,  1G,  22. 
Civil  suits — parties  competent  as  witnesses,  106. 
Clare,  Philip — false  accusation  against,  60. 
Clarke,  William — statement  of,  25. 
Cobb,  Mary — evidence  of,  33. 
Confessions — as  evidence,  43. 

of  crime,  delusions,  65. 

as  voice  of  conscience,  66. 

voluntary,  regarded  with  suspicion,  67. 

of  guilt,  99. 

Confirmatory — evidence  to  be  scrutinized,  30. 
Conviction — of  accused,  26. 

on  confessions,  52. 

when  virtual  acquittal,  103. 
Coroner's  inquest — insufficiency  of,  114. 
Corpus  delicti — to  be  proved,  52. 
Cowper,  Spencer — case  of,  109. 

statement  of,  114. 

explanation  of  circumstances,  117. 
Cowper,  William — self-conviction  of  crime,  51. 

account  of,  127, 

trial  of   grandfather  for  murder,  128. 

character  of,  143. 
Crime — incentives  to,  30. 

suspicious  circumstances,  40. 

suspicion  by  charging  innocent  party,  95. 


INDEX.  147 

Crime — Co  ntinued. 

imaginary  commission  of,  59. 

motives  for,  pp.  79,  84. 
Crimes — evidence  of  guilt,  96. 

absence  of  notice  to  exculpate,  97,  125. 

hatred  as  an  incentive  to,  98. 

public  indignation  at,  106. 
Criminal — right  to  exculpate  himself,  106. 
Crim.  con. — clandestine  correspondence,  110. 

betrayal  of  secrets,  110. 
Criminal  jurisprudence — of  French  courts,  101. 

of  continental  states,  101. 
Criminal  practice — prohibition  of  examination  of  criminal 

as  witness,  100. 
Cross-examination — of  culprit,  effect  of,  105, 

of  witnesses,  113. 

D. 

Dallas,  "William — examination  before,  53. 
Dead  bodies — floating  properties  of,  132,  133. 
Defense — what  conclusive  of  falsehood,  26. 
Delusions — impressions  from,  51. 

accordance  with  prevailing  belief,  53, 

intercourse  with  the  devil,  55. 

self-conviction  of  guilt,  58,  64. 

of  a  monomaniac,  59. 

confessions  of  murder  under,  65. 
Description— of  place,  12. 

of  accessory,  13-16. 

of  person,  coincidences,  33. 
Disappearance — mysterious  account  of,  44. 
Divorce — proceedings  on  false  ground,  59. 

case  of  on  delusions,  63. 
Dyer,  Daniel— evidence  of,  33. 


148 


Eccles,  Betty—  trial  of,  97. 
Eggleston  —  accidental  shooting  of,  71. 
Eliza  Fenning's  case,  87. 
Elizabeth  Canning's  case,  9. 
Emsley,  Mrs.  —  murder  of,  99, 
Escape  —  from  durance,  13. 
Evidence—  effect  of  suspicion,  28. 

suspicious  circumstances,  120. 

when  incompetent,  24,  25. 

circumstantial,  31. 

extrinsic  confirmation,  32. 

identity  of  person,  33. 

weight  of  on  question  of  alibi,  34. 

contradictory,  effect  of,  73,  80,  119 

effect  of  lapse  of  time,  76. 

suspicion  from  failure  to  produce  witness,  85. 

statement  of  prisoner,  94. 

facts  implying  innocence,  94. 

extracting  truth  by  torture,  105. 

effect  of  excluding  testimony  of  accused,  114. 

conjectures  from  facts,  118. 

of  scientific  experts,  126. 
Execution  —  of  innocent  person,  188. 

by  hanging  in  chains,  44. 
Experts  —  as  witnesses  on  scientific  subject,  126. 


Factions  —  created  by  trials  at  law,  27. 
Fairyland  —  visit  to,  55. 
Fanaticism  —  religious  and  political,  126. 
Fenning,  Eliza—  case  of,  87, 

Fielding,  Henry  —  as  novelist  and  magistrate,  20. 
opinion  in  Canning's  case,  21. 


IXDEX.  149 

Fitzgerald,  Major — testimony  of,  73. 
Floating  body — inferences  from,  114. 
Forbes,  Harie — confessions  made  to,  53. 
Forfeiture — for  carrying  contraband,  48. 

GK 

Gadsden — evidence  of,  93. 

Garth,  Samuel — evidence  as  expert,  127. 

Gascoigne — Lord  Mayor,  27. 

Gibbons,  John — statement  of,  25. 

Gipseys — as  factionists,  27. 

Gleeson,  Wilson — case  of,  30. 

Gowdie,  Isabell — confession  of  witchcraft,  53. 

execution  of,  57. 

Greville,  Thomas — evidence  of,  25. 
Guilt — sufficient  evidence  of,  97. 
Guilty  person — armor  of  law  around,  101. 

H. 

Haley — biographer,  143. 

Hall,  Virtue— examination  of,  22. 

Hallucination — self-conviction  under,  50,  58. 

.See  INSANITY. 

Harrison,  W. — reputed  murder  of,  39. 
Hatsell,  Judge — trial  before,  character  of,  131. 
Hay,  Bessie — delusions  of,  56. 
Heineccius — confessions  defined,  66. 
Hempen  widow — defined,  26. 
Hendricksoii,  Mrs. — murder  of,  100. 
Hicks,  Sir  B. — proprietor  of  Campden  House,  37. 
Historians— perversion  of  facts  by,  140. 
Holt,  Lord — appeal  of  murder,  how  designated,  142. 
Hopley,  Elizabeth— case  of,  60. 
House  of  ill  fame — what  not,  30. 
Human  passions — of  Quakers,  139. 


150  INDEX. 


Identity— proof  of,  18,  19. 

Imprisonment — of  sheriff  for  misconduct,  122,  142. 

Incantations — to  the  devil,  56,  57. 

Indictment — several  parties  jointly,  122. 

Information — of  robbery  and  abduction,  22. 

Inhumanity — exhibition  of  by  audience  in  court-room,  2G. 

Imser — evidence  of,  25. 

Innocence — proved  after  execution,  50. 

legal  presumption  of,  101. 
Insanity — impressions  produced,  51,  62,  64. 

self-iiioulpation  of  guilt,  58,  65,  67. 

forms  of,  59. 

attempt  to  prove  on  trial,  129. 

insufficient  proof  of,  129. 

inferred  from  voluntary  confession,  67. 
Instruction — to  jury  on  conflicting  testimony,  34. 
Issues — virtual  admissions  on,  72. 

to  be  jointly  tried,  103. 


J. 


Jack  Cade — evidence  to  prove  royal  descent,  16. 
Jealousy — as  an  insane  delusion,  58. 
Judicial  incompetency — 88. 
Jurisprudence — anomalies  in,  101. 

rules  of  not  to  be  set  aside,  106. 

criminal,  ultimate  object  of,  106. 

extra  judicial  inquiry,  106, 

K. 

Kidnapping— motive  requisite,  49. 


INDEX.  151 


Laffan,  Joan — evidence  of,  77. 
Laird  of  Parkis — enchantment  of,  57. 
Landy,  Joan — alleged  issue  of,  81. 

M. 

Macaulay,  Lord — remarks  as  to  Quakers  and  Tories,  122. 

criticism  on,  123,  129. 

Mackenzie,  Sir  G. — observations  on  witchcraft,  58. 
Magistrate — examination  before,  20. 

commitment  and  discharge,  20. 
Marriage— by  Quakers,  139. 
Malice — insufficient  cause  for,  92. 
Martiu,  Jean — delusion  of,  56. 
Maternal  solicitude — strength  of,  113. 
Melancholy  insanity — 67. 
Mental  disease — self-conviction,  50. 
Monomaniac — delusions  of,  59. 
Motive — absence  of  as  an  argument  of  innocence,  29, 

for  crime,  sufficiency  of,  97. 

religious  and  political  fanaticism,  135. 
Mullins — execution  for  murder,  99. 
Murder — by  starvation,  30. 

by  poisoning,  98. 

accusation  of,  109. 

insufficient  evidence  of,  120. 
Murder  and  robbery — 41. 
Murphy,  Eleanor — evidence  of,  81. 
Myers,  Mary — statement  of,  13. 

N. 

Natus,  Fortune— testimony  of,  20,  29. 
Natus,  Judith— arrest  of,  23. 


152  INDEX. 

Negligence — in  keeping  poisons,  91. 
Neshie,  Elspetli — delusions  of,  56. 
Neville,  Eveline — murder  of,  98. 
Noel,  Lord— 37, 

o. 

Outraged  humanity — vindication  of,  142. 
Overbury,  Sir  Thomas — 44. 


Palliser,  Tom— plot  against,  77. 

statement  of,  78. 

Pardon— on  weight  of  evidence,  27. 
Pedigree — evidence  of,  71. 

issues  on  trial,  72. 

facts  to  prove,  7G. 

Peer,  Sarah — suspicions  against,  92, 
Penalty — for  misconduct  of  sheriff,  122,  142. 
Perjury — contradiction  of  witnesses,  20,  81. 

arraignment  for,  28. 

grounds  of  action  for,  28. 

when  inferred,  81,  103. 

indictment  for,  85. 

Perry,  John — suspected  of  murder,  39 
Philological  curiosity — 131. 
Pigot,  Captain — murder  of,  G5. 
Plot — against  wife,  77. 
Plummer,  Eugenia — offense  committed  on,  102, 

conviction  for  perjury,  103. 
Poisoning — crime  of,  90. 

poison,  procurement  of,  91. 

negligence  in  keeping,  91. 

suspicious  circumstances,  93. 

habit  of,  98. 
Purcell — protector  of  J.  Aimesley,  82. 


INDEX.  153 


Quaker — incompetent  as  witness,  112. 

historical  remarks  about,  122. 

scruples  as  to  capital  punishment,  126. 

literature  of,  135. 

character  and  habits  of,  136. 

amusements  of,  137. 

prudence  of,  138. 

subject  to  human  passions,  139. 

marriages  by,  139. 

hospitalities  of,  139. 
Quakeress — story  of,  110. 
Quakerism — considered,  140. 

false  imputations  against,  14&, 
Quin— anecdote  of,  143. 


B. 


Ramsay — the  painter,  27. 
Rape — accusation  of,  102. 
Redding — gamekeeper,  70. 
Road  Murder,  The — 106. 
Robbery— in  Moorfields,  9, 


s. 


Salt— solicitor,  21. 
Scarratt,  Robert — statement  of,  13. 
Seduction  and  betrayal — 110. 
Self-inculpation — falsity  of,  64. 
Sentence— to  death  penalty,  26. 

to  brnnding  and  imprisonment,  26. 

respste,  grounds  of,  27. 
Separation— of  husband  and  wife,  grounds  for,  72. 


154  INDEX. 

Shakspeare — boyhood  haunts  of,  37. 
Sheriff— penalty  for  misconduct,  122,  142. 
Southey— biographer,  143. 
Spencer  Cowper's  case — 109. 
Squires,  Mary — charge  against,  18. 

arraignment  of,  25. 
Squires,  George — evidence  of,  19. 
Statements — on  suggestion,  value  of,  13. 

of  abducted  female,  credibility  of,  14-17. 
Stout,  Sarah — alleged  murder  of,  1G9. 
Suspicion— of  crime,  18. 


T. 


Teshmaker — examination  before,  20,  29. 
Thomas  the  Rhymer — visit  to  fairyland,  55. 
Tigh — protector  of  J.  Annesley,  84. 
Tories — Macaulay's  strictures  on,  122. 
Trial — renunciation  of  confession,  43 

for  witchcraft,  58. 

for  recovery  of  estate,  issues  on,  71. 

denials  and  subsequent  admissions,  81. 

effect  of  abandonment  of  statements,  96. 

malignant  and  unfair  conduct  of,  131. 
Turner,  John — evidence  of,  75. 

Mrs.,  examination  of,  93,  94. 

Orlibar,  poisoning  of,  90. 

Robert,  poisoning  of,  89. 

Sir  Christopher,  52. 


u. 

Unfortunate — denned,  26. 


ENDEX.  155 


V. 

Verdict — inconsistency  of,  35. 

inferences  from  findings,  85,  86. 

against  popular  sympathy,  89        • 

confirmation  by  public  opinion,  100. 

conflicts  in,  103,  104. 

of  acquittal,  122. 
Vemoru  Admiral— 70. 

w. 

Walker,  Sarah— testimony  of,  112. 

cross-examination  of,  113. 
Wall,  Samuel — declarations  of,  CO. 

Warrant — for  apprehension  of  accessory,  grounds  for,  16. 
Wells,  Susannah — arraignment  of,  25. 
Wet  Quaker— denned,  137. 
Wife — incompetent  as  witness,  102. 
Wilson,  Bessie— delusions  of,  56. 

Gleeson,  examination  of,  100. 
Witchcraft— of  Joan  Perry,  43. 

confessions  of,  53. 

destroying  fruits  of  land,  54. 

odious  nature  of  crime,  58. 
Witness — failure  to  examine,  suspicious,  29. 

exclusion  of  accused  party,  100-102. 

culprit  should  be  admitted  to  testify,  104. 

incompetency  of  Quaker,  112. 

effect  of  rule  excluding  accused,  114. 

examinations  of  physician  as  expert,  133. 


